a 


THE  METHOD, 
MEDITATIONS 
AND 

PHILOSOPHY 

of 

DESCARTES 


Digitized  by  the  Internet  Archive 
in  2016 


https://archive.org/details/methodmeditation01desc 


THE  METHOD, 
MEDITATIONS 
AND  PHILOSOPHY 

of 

DESCARTES 


TRANSLATED  FROM  THE  ORIGINAL  TEXTS  WITH  A 
NEW  INTRODUCTORY  ESSAY,  HISTORICAL 
AND  CRITICAL 


By 


JOHN  VEITCH,  LL.D., 


Professor  of  Logic  and  Rhetoric  in  the  University  of  Glasgow 


AND  A SPECIAL  INTRODUCTION  BY 

FRANK  SEWALL,  A.M. 


TUDOR  PUBLISHING  CO. 


NEW  YORK 


Printed  in  U.2.A. 


1 


1 1\ 

SPECIAL  INTRODUCTION 


To  the  Frenchman,  Rend  Descartes,  modern  learning 
is  indebted  for  some  of  the  most  potent  factors  in  its 
advancement.  These  are:  in  Mathematics,  the  in- 
vention of  the  Binomial  Theorem  and  the  application  of 
Algebra  to  Geometry  in  the  Analytical  Geometry;  in 
Physics,  the  suggestion  of  the  evolution  of  the  universe 
through  Vortices  and  the  discovery  of  the  laws  of  the  Re- 
fraction of  Light;  in  Physiology,  the  doctrine  of  the 
Animal  Spirits  and  the  theory  of  the  Mechanism  of  the 
soul’s  operation  in  the  body;  in  Philosophy,  the  finding 
of  the  ultimate  reality  in  subjective  consciousness  and 
the  deducting  thence  of  an  argument  for,  if  not  a proof 
of,  the  Existence  of  God;  in  Epistemology,  the  ground- 
ing of  scientific  Law  on  the  existence  of  a true  God;  in 
Ethics,  the  tracing  of  evil  to  the  necessary  error  arising 
from  judgments  based  on  finite  and  therefore  imperfect 
knowledge. 

Whatever  significance  we  attach  to  the  alleged  flaw  in 
the  argument  in  proof  of  God’s  existence  drawn  by  Des- 
cartes from  our  mind’s  necessary  conception  of  a perfect 
being,  which  conception  in  turn  necessarily  implies  the 
existence  of  its  object,  the  fact  remains  that  in  this  ulti- 
mate unity  of  the  soul’s  apperception  whereby  the  many 
are  brought  into  relation  to  a single  all-embracing,  all- 
regulating Whole  lies  the  possibility  of  a science  of  the 
universe,  and  that  in  uniting  the  subjective  certainty  of 
consciousness  with  the  clear  precision  of  mathematical 
reasoning  Descartes  gave  a new  and  vital  impetus  to 
human  learning  in  both  its  physical  and  metaphysical 
endeavors. 

Rene  Descartes  (Lat.  Renatus  Cartesius ) was  born  in 
La  Haye,  Touraine,  France,  on  the  31st  of  March,  1596. 
His  parents  were  well  to  do,  of  the  official  class,  and  his 
father  was  the  owner  of  considerable  estates.  His  mother 

(v) 


vi 


DESCARTES 


dying  soon  after  his  birth,  he  was  given  in  charge  of  a 
faithful  nurse,  whose  care  for  him,  a child  so  frail  that 
his  life  was  nearly  despaired  of,  was  afterward  grate- 
fully rewarded.  His  father  intrusted  his  education  to 
the  Jesuits  and  at  the  age  of  eight  years  he  was  sent  to 
the  college  at  La  Fleche  in  Anjou,  where  he  remained 
eight  years.  It  was  then,  in  his  seventeenth  year,  that 
we  read  of  his  becoming  dissatisfied  with  the  hollow  and 
formal  learning  of  the  Church  schools  and  demanding  a 
free  and  deeper  range  for  his  mental  faculties.  One  study, 
favored  of  the  Jesuits,  mathematics,  so  deeply  interested 
him  that  on  leaving  the  college  and  going  to  Paris  to 
taste  the  pleasures  of  a life  in  the  world,  he  became  in 
a year’s  time  wearied  of  its  dissipations  and  suddenly 
withdrew  himself  into  almost  cloistral  retirement,  in  a 
little  house  at  St.  Germain,  to  give  himself  up  to  the 
fascinations  of  Arithmetic  and  Geometry.  The  disturbed 
political  life  of  the  capital  led  him  to  leave  France,  and 
in  his  twenty-first  year  he  went  to  the  Netherlands 
and  enlisted  in  the  army  of  Prince  Maurice  of  Orange. 
After  two  years’  service  in  Holland  during  an  interval  of 
peace,  he  enlisted  again  as  a private  in  the  Bavarian 
service  in  the  war  between  Austria  and  the  Protestant 
princes.  In  this  war  he  was  present  at  the  battle  of 
Prague,  and  in  the  following  year  he  served  in  the  Hun- 
garian campaign.  Quitting  the  service  in  the  year  1621, 
he  journeyed  through  the  eastern  and  northern  countries 
returning  through  Belgium  to  Paris  in  1622.  Disposing 
of  some  inherited  property  in  a way  to  yield  him  a com- 
fortable income  he  now  starts  on  a tour  in  Italy  and 
Switzerland.  Paying  his  vows  at  Loretto  and  visiting 
Rome  and  Venice,  he  returns  again  to  France  in  1626, 
where  he  resumes  his  mathematical  studies  with  his  con- 
genial companions,  the  famous  mathematician  Mydorge 
and  his  former  schoolmate  the  priest  Mersenne.  He  was 
now  interested  in  the  study  of  the  refraction  of  light, 
and  in  the  perfecting  of  lenses  for  optical  instruments. 
His  military  zeal  again  caused  an  interruption  of  these 
peaceful  studies  in  calling  him  away  to  be  a participant 
of  the  siege  of  Rochelle  in  1628.  Returning  to  Paris, 
his  mind  divided  between  his  delight  in  adventure  and 
the  charms  of  the  deeper  problems  of  science  and  philoso- 
phy, and  finding  a life  of  seclusion  impossible  there,  at  the 


SPECIAL  INTRODUCTION 


vii 


suggesti°n  of  Cardinal  Berulle,  the  founder  of  the  Congre- 
gation of  the  Oratory,  he  leaves  Paris  and  in  1629  settles 
in  Holland  where  for  twenty  years  he  devotes  himself 
to  developing  his  philosophical  system  and  publishing 
his  works.  Three  times  he  visits  Paris  to  look  after  his 
family  affairs  and  to  receive  the  pension  twice  awarded 
him  by  the  Government.  He  made  a hasty  visit  to 
England  in  the  study  of  magnetic  phenomena  in  1630. 

The  last  year  of  his  life  was  spent  in  Stockholm, 
Sweden,  whither  he  had  been  called  by  the  young  Queen 
Christiana,  daughter  of  Gustave  Adolphus,  who,  in  her 
ambition  to  adorn  her  reign  with  the  lustre  of  learning, 
desired  the  immediate  tutelage  of  the  now  renowned  phi- 
losopher, as  well  as  his  assistance  in  planning  an  academy 
of  sciences.  In  the  pursuit  of  these  duties  under  arduous 
circumstances  the  philosopher  (compelled  to  give  an  hour’s 
instruction  daily  to  his  energetic  royal  pupil  at  five  o clock 
in  the  morning)  contracted  an  inflammation  of  the  lungs, 
and  ten  days  after  delivering  to  her  the  code  for  the  pro- 
posed academy,  he  died.  His  remains  were  carried  to 
France  and  after  remaining  in  the  Pantheon  until  1819 
they  were  transferred  to  the  Church  of  St.  Germain  des 
Prds,  where  they  now  repose.  Gustave  III.  erected  a 
monument  to  his  memory  at  Stockholm. 

If  such  a thing  can  be  conceived  as  a knighthood  of 
pure  intellect  it  was  emphasized  in  this  illustrious  French- 
man whose  career  almost  entirely  outside  of  his  native 
land  gives  the  country  of  his  birth  a place  in  the  front 
ranks  of  philosophic  achievement.  While  accounted  gen- 
erally the  founder  of  the  rationalistic  or  dogmatic  phi- 
losophy which  underlies  modern  idealism,  on  the  other 
hand  it  may  be  claimed  with  equal  propriety,  as  Huxley 
showed  in  his  address  to  the  students  in  Cambridge  in 
1870,  that  the  principles  of  his  (<  Traits  d'  I'hdmme ® very 
nearly  coincide  with  the  materialistic  aspects  of  modern 
psychophysiology.  A man  so  devout  in  spirit  that  his 
<(  Meditations  * read  like  the  <(  Confessions  * of  St.  Augustine 
and  so  loyal  to  his  Church  that  he  made  it  the  first  of 
his  maxims  of  conduct  <(  To  abide  by  the  old  law  and 
religion,®  and  who  died  in  the  happy  conviction  that  he 
had  succeeded  in  proving  with  a certainty  as  clear  as 
that  of  mathematics  the  existence  of  God,  he  was,  in  the 
half  century  succeeding  his  death,  to  have  his  works  placed 


DESCARTES 


viii 

in  the  Index  Expurgatorius  by  the  Church,  his  teachings 
excluded  from  the  university,  and  an  oration  at  the  in- 
terment of  his  remains  in  Paris  forbidden  by  royal  com- 
mand. In  England,  Bishop  Parker  of  Oxford  classed 
Descartes  among  the  infidels  with  Hobbs  and  Gassendi, 
and  Protestants  generally  regarded  as  atheistic  his  prin- 
ciple that  the  Bible  was  not  intended  to  teach  the 
sciences,  and,  as  an  encroachment  on  the  Church’s  au- 
thority, his  doctrine  that  the  existence  of  God  could  be 
proved  by  reason  alone.  The  man  who  perhaps  more 
than  any  other  has  brought  the  lustre  of  philosophic  re- 
nown upon  France  lived  nearly  all  the  years  of  his  liter- 
ary activity  beyond  its  borders,  taught  in  none  of  her 
schools  and  even  as  a soldier  fought  in  none  of  her  for- 
eign wars.  Laboring  for  years  and  with  unflagging  zeal 
in  the  elaboration  of  his  Equation  of  the  Curve  and  his 
system  of  symbols  which  made  possible  the  Binomial 
Theorem,  yet  he  avows  that  geometry  was  never  his  first 
love  and  that  mathematics  are  but  the  outer  shell  to  the  real 
system  of  his  philosophy.  Nothing,  at  least,  would  satisfy 
him  short  of  the  universal  mathesis  or  a view  of  relations 
and  powers  so  universal  as  to  embrace  the  whole  field  of 
possible  knowledge.  He  was  never  married.  Although 
he  wrote  poems  and  was  devoted  to  music  in  his  youth, 
yet  he  seems  to  fight  shy  of  even  these  recreations  as  he 
does  of  the  enticements  of  friendship,  preferring  the  cool 
and  calm  states  of  solitude  as  conducive  to  his  life’s 
chosen  task,  — that  of  finding  the  truth  of  science  in  the 
truth  of  God.  The  twenty  years  of  his  life  in  Holland 
during  which  he  resided  mostly  in  a number  of  little 
university  towns  was  the  time  of  a brilliant  court  under 
the  stadtholder  Frederick  Henry  and  of  the  famous  art 
of  Rembrandt  and  the  scholarship  of  Grotius  and  Vossius. 
But  these  were  as  nothing  to  Descartes  who  shows  a 
contempt  for  all  learning  and  art  for  their  own  sake. 
Knowledge,  he  maintained,  must  be  grounded  in  intelli- 
gence rather  than  in  erudition.  He  studies  the  world, 
men,  states,  nature  only  as  spectacles  of  a deep  inner 
and  immortal  principle  into  whose  secret  he  would  pene- 
trate. For  this  he  keeps  himself  aloof  from  personal  and 
political  entanglements,  not  allowing  even  his  family  affairs 
to  engross  him;  and,  while  he  keeps  himself  in  touch 
with  intellectual  movements  in  Paris  through  the  corre- 


SPECIAL  INTRODUCTION 


IX 


spondence  of  his  friends  there,  he  does  so  with  the  pre- 
caution to  keep  his  own  whereabouts  a secret  from  the  world 
at  large.  It  is  as  if  he  would  make  his  mind  a perfectly 
clear,  cold  crystal  reflecting  like  the  monad  of  the  later 
system  of  Leibnitz,  in  perfect  distinctness  that  truth  of 
the  universe  and  its  God  that  he  would  give  to  the 
world.  Destined  as  they  were  to  be  for  a time  put  under 
the  ban  of  both  the  Church  and  the  universities,  yet  im- 
mediately on  their  publication,  the  doctrines  of  Descartes 
were  received  with  a popular  enthusiasm  that  made  them 
the  fashionable  cult  of  Cardinals,  scholars,  and  princes  in 
the  court  Of  Louis  XIV.,  and  the  favorite  theme  of  the 
salons  of  Madame  de  Sevigne,  and  the  Duchesse  de  Maine. 
Although  already  forbidden  by  the  Index  in  1663  and 
condemned  as  dangerous  to  the  faith  by  the  Archbishop 
of  Paris  in  1671,  still  in  1680  the  lectures  of  the  popular 
expositor  of  the  new  philosophy,  Pierre  Silvan  Regis, 
were  so  sought  after  in  Paris  that  seats  in  the  audience 
hall  could  with  difficulty  be  obtained.  The  principle  of 
his  physics  and  mathematics  soon  assumed  their  essential 
place  in  the  progress  of  modern  science  and  in  Holland, 
where  from  the  first  the  new  philosophy  found  many  ad- 
vocates, Spinoza,  seizing  upon  the  Cartesian  principle  of 
the  development  of  philosophy  from  the  a priori  ground 
of  the  most  certain  knowledge,  founded  his  system  of 
Idealistic  Monism  which  has  largely  entered  into  all  the 
modern  schools  of  speculative  thought. 

What  has  given  Descartes  a unique  hold  upon  the 
thought  of  modern  times  is  his  making  the  mind’s  posi- 
tion of  universal  doubt  the  proper  starting  place  in 
philosophy.  This  he  does,  however,  not  in  the  spirit  of 
skepticism,  but  in  the  effort  to  construct  a system  of 
truthful  knowledge.  As  Bacon  was  dissatisfied  with  the 
assumption  by  the  schools  of  a priori  principles  that  had 
no  ground  in  experience,  so  Descartes,  finding  himself 
disposed  to  question  the  authority  of  all  that  was  taught 
him,  conceived  the  idea  of  allowing  this  very  doubt  to 
run  its  full  course,  and  so  of  finding  what  ground,  if  any 
remained,  for  a certain  knowledge  of  anything  whatever. 
Thus  doubt  as  the  natural  attitude  of  the  mind,  instead 
of  being  combatted  as  an  enemy  to  even  the  highest  and 
surest  knowledge,  was  itself  to  be  forced  to  yield  up  its  own 
tribute  of  knowing.  This  it  does  in  bringing  the  doubter 


X 


DESCARTES 


to  the  first  and  fundamental  admission  that  in  doubt- 
ing he  is  thinking,  and  that  in  order  to  think  he  must  at 
least  exist.  Therefore,  the  existence  of  the  thinker,  or 
the  fact  of  thinking,  is  a fact  beyond  the  possibility  of 
doubt.  Hence  the  basic  maxim  of  the  Cartesian  philoso- 
phy, Je  pense,  done  je  suis.  In  developing  his  philosophic 
method,  Descartes  lays  down  the  following  rules  for  his 
guidance : 

I.  Never  to  accept  anything  as  true  which  I do  not  clearly  know 
to  be  such. 

II.  Divide  difficulties  into  as  many  parts  as  possible. 

III.  Proceed  from  the  simplest  and  surest  knowledges  to  the  more 
complex,  and  — 

IV.  Make  the  connection  so  complete,  and  the  reviews  so  general, 
that  nothing  shall  be  overlooked. 

® Convinced,®  he  says,  “that  I was  as  open  to  error  as 
any  other,  I rejected  as  false  all  the  reasonings  I had 
hitherto  taken  as  demonstrations ; also  that  thoughts, 
awake,  may  be  as  really  experienced  as  when  asleep, 
therefore  all  may  be  delusions ; yet  in  thinking  thus  I must 
be  a somewhat;  hence  cogito  ergo  sum.  The  doubter’s 
thinking  proves  his  existence.  I conclude  that  I am  a 
substance  whose  existence  is  in  thinking,  and  that  there 
is  no  proof  of  the  certainty  of  the  first  maxim  to  be 
adopted  except  that  of  a vision  or  consciousness  as  clear  as 
this  that  I have  of  my  own  existence.  * But  in  thinking  of 
his  own  existence,  he  is  immediately  convinced  of  the 
limitations  and  imperfections  of  his  mind  from  the  fact 
of  its  imperfect  knowledge  of  things  causing  him  to  doubt: 
hence  he  is  led  to  infer  the  existence  of  a being  who  is 
perfect  and  without  limitations;  for  it  is  impossible  to 
conceive  of  imperfection  without  conceiving  at  the  same 
time  of  perfection;  and  it  is  this  perfect  being  alone 
which  can  be  the  cause  of  all  other  beings,  since  it  must 
be  the  perfect  which  gives  rise  to  imperfect  and  finite 
rather  than  that  the  imperfect  should  be  the  cause  of  the 
perfect.  Hence  we  derive  the  idea  of  the  being  of  God 
as  the  perfect  being.  But  the  idea  of  the  perfection  of 
anything  involves  that  of  its  existence;  hence  Descartes 
concludes  by  a logic,  whose  validity  has  often  been  chal- 
lenged, that  the  perfect  being  must  exist;  and  hence,  he 
holds,  we  are  assured  of  the  existence  of  God.  The  proof 
is  strengthened  also  by  the  reflection  that  the  idea  itself 


SPECIAL  INTRODUCTION 


xi 


of  a perfect  being  could  only  have  come  into  a finite 
mind  from  such  a perfect  source.  The  idea  of  God  in 
the  human  mind  at  once  implies  the  existence  of  God  as 
the  only  possible  source  of  this  idea ; and  the  idea  of  God 
as  a perfect  being  without  existence  it  would  be  impos- 
sible to  conceive.  Further,  the  knowledge  now  clearly 
attained  of  the  existence  of  God  shows  us  that  God  as 
perfect  must  be  a beneficent  being  whose  only  object 
toward  his  creatures  must  be  to  enlighten  and  to  bless 
them.  Therefore,  he  would  not  create  beings  only  to 
deceive  them  by  making  them  subject  necessarily  to  de- 
lusion. The  evidence  of  the  senses,  therefore,  as  to  the 
existence  of  an  objective  world  which  is  as  real  and  as 
certain  as  this  certain  world  of  thought,  must  be  a true 
evidence.  The  external  world  exists  as  truly  as  the  in- 
ternal. But  as  external,  it  is  utterly  without  thought 
and  without  consciousness.  The  created  universe  is, 
therefore,  under  God,  who  is  the  one  perfect  self-existent 
Substance,  dual  in  its  nature,  or  composed  of  two  subor- 
dinate substances  utterly  discrete  in  their  nature  and 
incapable  of  any  intercommunication.  The  one  is  the 
world  of  thought,  the  other  the  world  of  extension.  To 
the  one  belong  our  minds,  to  the  other  our  bodies.  But 
while  there  can  be  no  intermingling  or  community  of 
those  substances  so  absolutely  unlike,  yet  there  is  in  man 
a minute  organ,  the  pineal  gland  in  the  brain,  where  the 
two  alone  come  into  such  contact  that,  by  a miraculous 
and  constant  intervention  of  deity,  the  action  of  the  soul 
is  extended  into,  or  made  coincident  with,  that  of  the 
body.  This  discreteness  of  the  two  planes,  or  degrees  of 
substance,  matter  and  thought,  their  perfect  correspond- 
ence and  their  mutual  influence  by  contiguity  and  not 
by  continuity  or  confusion,  forms  one  of  the  landmarks  of 
modern  philosophy,  and  is  carried  later  by  Swedenborg 
into  a much  more  perfect  development  in  his  doctrine  of 
Discrete  Degrees  and  their  Correspondence.  The  treat- 
ment of  the  problems  of  the  mutual  influx  of  these  two 
degrees  of  substance,  mind  and  matter,  has  been  a dis- 
tinguishing mark  of  subsequent  schools  of  philosophy, 
culminating  in  the  theory  of  parallelism,  which  is  current 
at  the  present  day.  While  Descartes  accounts  for  the 
parallel  action  of  these  two  utterly  unlike  and  incom- 
municable substances  by  the  supposed  immediate  opera- 


xii 


DESCARTES 


tion  of  God  upon  both  on  the  occasion  of  either  being 
affected,  his  immediate  follower  Geulinx  regards  the 
coincident  action  of  the  two  substances  as  divinely  fore- 
ordained, so  that  the  action  of  one  accompanies  that  of 
the  other,  like  the  movements  of  the  hands  of  two  clocks 
made  to  run  exactly  alike,  and  yet  in  no  way  to  interfere 
with  one  another.  This  is  the  theory  of  (<  pre-established 
harmony w applied  by  Leibnitz  to  his  world  of  monads. 
Malebranche,  however,  another  disciple  of  Descartes,  held 
that  the  interaction  of  the  two  planes,  in  nature  inex- 
plicable, becomes  possible  through  their  hidden  unity  and 
harmony  in  God,  in  whom  is  all  life  and  motion.  Swe- 
denborg, opposing  with  Descartes  the  doctrine  of  physical 
influx,  sets  forth  the  doctrine  of  a perfect <(  correspondence  }> 
of  the  discrete  degrees  of  being,  such  that  motions  may 
be  imparted  by  the  contact  of  these  degrees  without  any 
intermingling  of  their  substance  and  by  virtue  of  the 
harmony  of  their  interior  form,  all  exterior  and  material 
things  being  symbols  and  vessels  of  interior  things. 

With  Descartes  the  lower  animals  and  men  as  to  their 
purely  animal  nature  are  perfect  machines  and  form  a 
part  of  the  stupendous  mechanism  of  the  world.  Man 
alone  by  virtue  of  his  rational  soul  presides  like  an 
engineer  in  the  midst  of  this  vast  machinery  and  gov- 
erns the  conduct  of  the  body  by  the  dictates  of  wisdom 
and  virtue.  Man’s  soul,  a thinking  principle,  is  com- 
posed of  will  and  intellect,  and  the  intellect  is  composed 
of  partly  innate  and  partly  derived  ideas.  The  thoughts 
of  the  finite  mind  must  be  imperfect,  whereas  the  will 
partakes  of  the  infinite  freedom  of  God.  The  tendency 
of  the  human  will  is  therefore  to  wander  beyond  that 
which  it  clearly  sees  in  its  own  limited  understanding, 
and  hence  from  the  abuse  of  the  finite  human  thought 
arise  error  and  sin.  These  privations  suffered  by  human 
thought  are  however  evidences  of  God’s  goodness  and 
justice  since  the  universe  is  more  perfect  for  the  multi- 
tude and  variety  of  its  imperfect  parts.  God  is  in  every 
one  of  our  clear  thoughts,  and  so  far  as  we  abide  by 
them  in  our  judgments  we  are  right;  so  far  as  in  our 
own  free  will  we  transgress  or  exceed  them  we  are  in 
error  and  come  into  unhappiness.  As  regards  the 
thought  of  God  it  is  not  the  thought  itself  that  effects 
the  existence  of  God  but  the  necessity  of  the  thing 


SPECIAL  INTRODUCTION 


xiii 

itself  determines  us  to  have  this  thought.  The  thought 
of  God  being  therefore  the  ground  of  all  the  certainty 
of  any  knowledge  of  anything,  the  truth  of  all  science 
must  depend  on  the  knowledge  of  a true  God  The 
soul’s  immortality  is  inferred  in  the  sixth  “ Meditation ® 
from  the  fact  that  we  have  a clear  and  distinct  idea  of 
thought,  including  sensations  and  willing,  without  any- 
thing material  appertaining  to  it;  hence  its  existence 
must  be  possible  independent  of  the  material  body. 

Such  is  an  outline  of  Descartes’  arguments  in  proof  of 
the  existence  of  God,  and  of  his  method  of  attaining  to 
true  knowledge.  They  are  given  in  the  “ Discours  de  la 
Mtthode  pour  bien  conduire  le  raison  et  chercher  la  Vtriti 
dans  les  Sciences^  published  in  the  “ Essais  Philosophiques ® 
at  Leyden,  1637,  and  in  the  “ Meditationes  de  prima  phi- 
losophia , ubi  de  Dei  existentia  et  animce  immortalitate;  his 
adjunctce  sunt  varice  objectiones  doctorum  virorum  in  istas 
de  Deo  et  anima  demonstrations  cum  responsionibus  auctoris ,® 
published  in  Paris  1641;  and  in  another  edition  in  Am- 
sterdam in  1642.  A French  translation  of  the  “Medita- 
tions ” by  the  Duke  of  Luynes  and  of  the  objections  and 
replies  by  Clerselier,  revised  by  Descartes,  appeared  in 
1647.  In  1644  appeared  in  Amsterdam  the  complete  sys- 
tem of  Descartes’  philosophy  under  the  title  <(  Renati 
Descartes  Principia  Philosophies. ® This,  after  a brief  out- 
line of  the  subjects  discussed  in  the  “Meditations,®  deals 
with  the  general  principles  of  Physical  Science,  espe- 
cially of  the  laws  of  motion  and  the  doctrine  of  the  evo- 
lution of  the  universe  through  vortices  in  the  primitive 
mass,  resulting  in  the  whirling  of  matter  into  spherical 
bodies,  the  falling  or  sifting  through  of  angular  frag- 
ments into  the  solid  central  bodies  and  the  formation 
thence  of  matter  and  the  firmament  and  planets.  In 
this  vortical  theory  of  creation  which  anticipates  that  of 
Swedenborg,  Kant,  and  Laplace,  the  method  is  that  of 
deducing  hypothetical  causes  from  actual  results  or  pro- 
jecting the  laws  of  creation  backward  from  the  known 
effect  to  the  necessary  cause.  It  differs  from  the  theory 
of  Swedenborg  in  producing  the  center  from  the  circum- 
ference instead  of  animating  the  center  or  the  first  point 
with  its  motive  derived  from  the  infinite  and  thus  de- 
veloping all  motions  and  forms  from  it.  (See  Sweden- 
borg’s “ Principia ,®  Vol.  I.,  chap  II.  “A  Philosophical 


XIV 


DESCARTES 


Argument  concerning  the  First  Simple  from  which  the 
World,  with  its  natural  things  originated;  that  is  con- 
cerning the  first  Natural  Point  and  its  existence  from 
the  Infinite. a)  The  phenomena  of  light,  heat,  gravity, 
magnetism,  etc. , are  also  treated  of.  Descartes  here  while 
hot  venturing  to  openly  oppose  his  rationalistic  theory  of 
the  creation  to  that  of  the  Bible,  apologizes  for  suggest- 
ing the  rational  process,  in  that  it  makes  the  world  more 
intelligible  than  the  treatment  of  its  objects  merely  as 
we  find  them  fully  created. 

While  rejecting  the  Copernican  theory  by  name  out  of 
fear  of  religious  opinion,  he  maintains  it  in  substance  in  his 
idea  of  the  earth  as  being  carried  around  the  sun  in  a great 
solar  vortex. 

In  the  (( Essais  Philosophiques w appeared  also,  together 
With  the  “ Discours  de  la  Mdthode ,>>  the  (<  Dioptrique,  ” the 
® MJtJoresf  and  the  (<  G^omJtrieP  The  (<  Principles  of 
Philosophy  * were  dedicated  to  the  Princess  Elizabeth, 
the  daughter  of  the  ejected  elector  Palatine,  who  had 
been  his  pupil  at  The  Hague.  To  his  later  royal  pupil, 
the  Queen  Christiana  of  Sweden,  he  sent  the  <(  Essay  on 
the  Passions  of  the  Mind  ® originally  written  for  the 
Princess  Elizabeth  and  which  was  published  at  Amster- 
dam in  1650.  The  posthumous  work,  <(  Le  Monde , ou 
traits  de  la  lumtire  * was  edited  by  Descartes’  friend 
Clerselier  and  published  in  Paris  1664,  also  the  (<  Trait i 
de'  I'homme  et  de  la  formation  de  foetus ,*  in  the  same 
year  by  the  same  editor.  It  was  this  work  with  its  bold 
theory  of  the  Animal  Spirit  as  being  the  mechanical 
principle  of  motion  actuating  the  lower  animals  by 
means  of  pure  mechanism,  without  feeling  or  intelligence 
on  their  part,  that  raised  such  an  outcry  among  the  ene- 
mies of  Descartes  and  was  not  deemed  safe  to  publish 
during  his  lifetime.  In  it  occurs  the  graphic  illustration 
of  the  animal  system  comparing  it  to  a garden  such  as 
one  sees  in  the  parks  of  princes  of  Europe  where  are 
ingenuously  constructed  figures  of  all  kinds  which,  on 
some  hidden  part  being  touched  unawares  by  the  visitor 
to  the  garden,  the  figures  are  all  set  in  motion,  the 
fountains  play,  etc.  The  visitors  in  the  garden  tread- 
ing on  the  concealed  machinery  are  the  objects  striking 
the  organs  of  sensation ; the  water  flowing  through  the 
pipes  and  producing  motion  and  semblance  of  life  is  the 


SPECIAL  INTRODUCTION 


xv 


animal  spirit ; the  engineer  sitting  concealed  in  the  center 
and  controlling  the  whole  is  the  rational  soul. 

<(  Les  Regies  pour  la  direction  de  l esprit  ” which  is  thought 
to  have  been  written  in  the  years  1617-28  and  to 
illustrate  the  course  of  Descartes’  own  philosophical  de- 
velopment, and  the  (<  Recherche  de  la  verity  par  les  lumieres 
naturellesj  were  published  at  Amsterdam  in  1701.  A 
complete  edition  in  Latin  of  Descartes’  philosophical 
works  was  published  in  Amsterdam  in  1850,  and  the 
complete  works,  in  French,  at  Paris,  edited  by  Victor 
Cousin,  in  1824-26.  In  1868  appeared,  in  Paris,  <(  CEuvres 
de  Descartes , nouvelle  edition  precdd^e  d'une  introduction 
par  Jules  Simon. w 


' 


CONTENTS 


PAGE 

INTRODUCTION  : 

I.  Descartes  — His  Life  and  Writings i 

II.  Philosophy  Preceding  Descartes  in  the  Fifteenth  and  Six- 

teenth Centuries 6 

III.  The  Cogito  ergo  sum — Its  Nature  and  Meaning  . . . n 

IV.  Cogito  ergo  sum — Objections  to  the  Principle.  ...  21 

V.  The  Guarantee  of  the  Principle 27 

VI.  The  Criterion  of  Truth 39 

VII.  The  Ego  and  the  Material  World 48 

VIII.  Innate  Ideas 57 

IX.  Malebranche 58 

X.  Spinoza — Relations  to  Descartes 68 

XI.  Development  of  Cartesianism  in  the  Line  of  Spinoza  — 

Omnis  determinatio  est  negatio 88 

XII.  Hegelian  Criticism  — the  Ego  and  the  Infinite  . . . 107 

DISCOURSE  ON  METHOD  : 

Prefatory  Note  by  the  Author 148 

I.  Various  Considerations  Touching  the  Sciences  . . . 149 

II.  The  Principal  Rules  of  the  Method 155 

III.  Certain  Rules  of  Morals  Deduced  from  the  Method  . . 164 

IV.  Reasons  Establishing  the  Existence  of  God  and  of  the  Hu- 

man Soul 170 

V.  The  Order  of  the  Physical  Questions  Investigated  by  Des- 

cartes ; His  Explication  of  the  Motion  of  the  Heart,  and 
of  Some  Other  Difficulties  Pertaining  to  Medicine ; the 
Difference  between  the  Soul  of  Man  and  that  of  Brutes  177 

VI.  What  Is  Required  in  Order  to  Greater  Advancement  in  the 

Investigation  of  Nature;  Reasons  that  Induced  Des- 
cartes to  Write 190 

THE  MEDITATIONS  : 

Dedication 206 

Preface 211 

Synopsis  of  the  Meditations 215 

I.  Of  the  Things  which  We  may  Doubt 219 

II.  Of  the  Nature  of  the  Human  Mind;  and  that  It  Is  More 

Easily  Known  than  the  Body 224 

III.  Of  God:  that  He  Exists 234 

IV.  Of  Truth  and  Error 249 

(kvii) 


xviii  DESCARTES 

PAGK 


V.  Of  the  Essence  of  Material  Things ; and,  Again,  of  God,  that 

He  Exists 258 

VI,  Of  the  Existence  of  Material  Things,  and  of  the  Real  Dis- 

tinction between  the  Mind  and  Body  of  Man  . . 264 

THE  PRINCIPLES  OF  PHILOSOPHY: 

Preface 283 

Dedication 297 

I.  Of  the  Principles  of  Human  Knowledge 301 

II.  Of  the  Principles  of  Material  Things.  Sects,  i.  to  xxv.  . 333 

III.  Of  the  Visible  World.  Sects,  i.  to  iii 345 

IV.  Of  the  Earth.  Sects,  clxxxviii.  to  ccvii 347 


APPENDIX  : 

Reasons  which  Establish  the  Existence  of  God,  and  the 
Distinction  between  the  Mind  and  Body  of  Man,  Dis- 
posed in  Geometrical  Order 363 


INTRODUCTION 


INTRODUCTION. 


I.  Descartes  — His  Life  and  Writings. 

The  life  of  Descartes  is  best  read  in  his  writings, 
especially  in  that  choice  and  pleasing  fragment  of  men- 
tal autobiography,  the  Discours  de  la  M e'tliode.  But  it  is 
desirable  to  give  the  leading  facts  and  dates  of  a career 
as  unostentatious  and  barren  of  current  and  popular 
interest,  as  it  was  significant  and  eventful  for  the  future 
of  modem  thought. 

Rene  Descartes  was  born  on  the  31st  March,  1596. 
His  birthplace  was  La  Haye,  a small  town  in  the  prov- 
ince of  Touraine,  now  the  department  of  the  Indre  et 
Loire.  His  family,  on  both  sides,  belonged  to  the  landed 
gentry  of  the  province  of  Poitou,  and  was  of  old  stand- 
ing. The  ancestral  estates  lay  in  the  neighborhood  of 
Chatelleraut,  in  the  plain  watered  by  the  Vienne,  as  it 
flows  northward,  amid  fields  fertile  in  com  and  vines,  to 
the  Loire.  The  manor,  called  Les  Cartes , from  which 
the  family  derived  its  name,  is  about  a league  from  La 
Haye.  It  is  now  embraced  in  the  commune  of  Ormes- 
Saint-Martin,  in  the  department  of  Vienne,  which  repre- 
sents the  old  province  of  Poitou. 

The  mother  of  the  philosopher  was  Jeanne  Brochard, 
and  his  father  was  Joachim  Descartes,  a lawyer  by  pro- 
fession, and  a counsellor  in  the  Parliament  of  Bretagne. 
This  assembly  was  held  in  the  town  of  Rennes,  the  old 
capital  of  the  province,  and  there  the  family  usually  re- 
sided during  the  session.  Rend  was  the  third  child  of 
the  marriage.  The  title  of  Seigneur  du  Perron,  some- 
times attached  to  his  name,  came  to  him  from  inheriting 
a small  estate  through  his  mother.  His  elder  brother 
followed  the  father’s  profession,  and  became  in  his  turn 
a counsellor  of  the  Parliament  of  Bretagne.  He  seems 
to  have  been  a proper  type  of  the  conventional  gentle- 
man of  the  time.  So  far  from  regarding  it  as  an  honor 
to  be  connected  with  the  philosopher,  he  thought  it 
-«  (1) 


2 


INTRODUCTION 


derogatory  to  the  family  that  his  brother  Rend  should 
write  books.  This  elder  brother  was  the  first  of  the 
family  to  settle  in  Bretagne,  so  that  it  is  a mistake  to 
represent  Descartes  as  a Breton.  He  was  really  de- 
scended from  Poitou  ancestry. 

In  1604,  at  the  age  of  eight,  he  was  sent  to  the  recently- 
instituted  Jesuit  College  of  La  Fldche.  The  studies  of 
the  place  were  of  the  usual  scholastic  type.  He  mastered 
these,  but  he  seems  to  have  taken  chiefly  to  mathemat- 
ics. Here  he  remained  eight  years,  leaving  the  college 
in  1612.  After  a stay  in  Paris  of  four  years,  the  greater 
part  of  the  time  being  spent  in  seclusion  and  quiet  study, 
at  the  age  of  twenty-one  he  entered  the  army,  joining 
the  troops  of  Prince  Maurice  of  Nassau  in  Holland.  He 
afterward  took  service  with  the  Duke  of  Bavaria,  then 
made  a campaign  in  Hungary  under  the  Count  de 
Bucquoy.  His  insatiable  desire  of  seeing  men  and  the 
world,  which  had  been  the  principal  motive  for  his  join- 
ing the  army,  now  urged  him  to  travel.  Moravia,  Silesia, 
the  shores  of  the  Baltic,  Holstein,  and  Friesland,  were 
all  visited  by  him  at  this  time.  Somewhat  later,  in  1623, 
he  set  out  from  Paris  for  Italy,  traversed  the  Alps  and 
visited  the  Grisons,  the  Valteline,  the  Tyrol,  and  then 
went  by  Innsbruck  to  Venice  and  Rome.  In  the  winter 
of  1619-20,  when,  after  close  thinking,  some  fundamen- 
tal point  in  his  philosophy  dawned  on  his  mind,  he  had 
a remarkable  dream,  and  thereupon  he  vowed  to  make  a 
pilgrimage  to  Loretto.  There  can  be  little  doubt  that 
he  actually  fulfilled  his  vow  on  the  occasion  of  this  visit 
to  Italy,  walking  on  foot  from  Venice  to  Loretto.  He 
finally  settled  to  the  reflective  work  of  his  life  in  1629,  at 
the  age  of  thirty-three,  choosing  Amsterdam  for  his  res- 
idence. Holland  was  then  the  land  of  freedom  — civil 
and  literary  — and  this  no  doubt  influenced  his  decision. 
But  he  also,  as  he  tells  us,  preferred  the  cooler  atmos- 
phere of  the  Low  Lands  to  the  heat  of  Italy  and  France. 
In  the  former  he  could  think  with  cool  head,  in  the 
latter  he  could  only  produce  phantasies  of  the  brain. 

Here,  professing  and  acting  on  the  principle,  Bene  vixit 
bene  qui  latuit , he  meditated  and  wrote  for  twenty  years, 
with  a patience,  force,  and  fruitfulness  of  genius  which 
has  been  seldom  equalled  in  the  history  of  the  world 
His  works  appeared  in  the  following  order:  Discours  de  la 


INTRODUCTION 


Mtthode  pour  bien  conduire  sa  raison,  et  chercher  la  veriti 
dans  les  sciences;  plus  la  Dioptrique,  les  Mdtdores  et  la 
Gtomdtrie,  qui  sont  des  Essais  de  cette  Mdthode.  Leyden: 
1637.  This  was  published  anonymously.  Etienne  de 
Courcelles  translated  the  Method,  Dioptrics,  and  Meteors 
into  Latin.  This  was  revised  by  Descartes,  and  published 
at  Amsterdam  in  1644.  The  Geometry  was  translated 
into  Latin,  with  commentary,  by  Francis  von  Schooten, 
and  published  at  Leyden,  1649.  The  Meditations  were 
first  published  in  Paris  in  1641.  The  title  was  Meditationes 
de  prima  Philosophia , in  qua  Dei  existentia  et  animce  im- 
mortalitas  demonstrantur . In  the  second  edition,  published 
under  the  superintendence  of  the  author  himself  at  Am- 
sterdam in  1642,  the  title  was  as  follows:  Renati  Descartes 
Meditationes  de  prima  Philosophia , in  quibus  Dei  existentia 
et  animce  a corpore  distinctio  demonstrantur.  His  adjunctce 
sunt  varice  objectiones  doctorum  virorum  ad  istas  de  Deo  et 
animce  demonstrationes  cum  responsionibus  auctoris.  The 
Meditations  were  translated  into  French  by  the  Due  de 
Luynes  in  1647.  The  Principia  Philosophies  appeared  at 
Amsterdam  in  1644.  The  Abb4  Picot  translated  it  into 
French,  1647,  Paris.  The  Traits  des  Passions  de  I'Ame 
appeared  at  Amsterdam  in  1649. 

Regarding  the  Method  of  Descartes,  Saisset  has  very 
well  said : <(  It  ought  not  be  forgotten  that  in  publishing 
the  Method,  Descartes  joined  to  it,  as  a supplement,  the 
Dioptrics,  the  Geometry,  and  the  Meteors.  Thus  at  one 
stroke  he  founded,  on  the  basis  of  a new  method,  two 
sciences  hitherto  almost  unknown  and  of  infinite  impor- 
tance — Mathematical  Physics  and  the  application  of  Alge- 
bra to  Geometry;  and  at  the  same  time  he  gave  the  pre- 
lude to  the  Meditations  and  the  Principles  — that  is  to  say, 
to  an  original  Metaphysic,  and  the  mechanical  theory  of 
the  universe.” 

The  appearance  of  the  Discours  de  la  Mithode  marked 
an  epoch  not  only  in  philosophy,  but  in  the  French 
language  itself,  as  a means  especially  of  philosophical 
expression.  Peter  Ramus,  in  his  violent  crusade  against 
Aristotle,  had  published  a Dialectic  in  French,  but  it 
was  the  Discours  de  la  Mtthode  of  Descartes  which  first 
truly  revealed  the  clearness,  precision,  and  natural  force 
of  his  native  language  in  philosophical  literature.  The 
use,  too,  of  a vernacular  tongue,  immensely  aided  the 


4 


INTRODUCTION 


diffusion  and  appreciation  of  the  first  great  movement  of 
modern  thought. 

Descartes,  though  a self-contained  and  self-inspired 
man,  of  marked  individuality  and  a spirit  of  speculation 
wonderful  for  its  comprehensiveness,  had  not  the  out- 
spoken boldness  which  we  are  accustomed  to  associate 
with  great  reformers.  He  was  not  one,  indeed,  who 
cared  to  encounter  the  powerful  opposition  of  the  Church, 
to  which  by  education  he  belonged.  This  is  obvious  from 
many  things  in  his  writings.  He  avoided,  as  far  as  pos- 
sible, the  appearance  of  an  innovator,  while  he  was  so  in 
the  truest  sense  of  the  word.  When  he  attacked  an  old 
dogma,  it  was  not  by  a daring  march  up  to  the  face  of 
it,  but  rather  by  a quiet  process  of  sapping  the  founda- 
tions. He  got  rid  also  of  traditional  principles  not  so 
much  by  direct  attack  as  by  substituting  for  them  new 
proofs  and  grounds  of  reasoning,  and  thus  silently  ig- 
noring them. 

One  little  incident  of  his  life  shows  at  once  the  char- 
acter of  the  man  and  of  the  times  in  which  he  lived, 
and  the  difficulties  peculiar  to  the  position  of  an  original 
thinker  in  those  days.  He  had  completed  the  manu- 
script of  a treatise  De  Mundo,  and  was  about  to  send  it 
to  his  old  college  friend  Mersenne  in  Paris,  with  a view 
to  arrange  for  its  printing.  In  it  he  had  maintained  the 
doctrine  of  the  motion  of  the  earth.  Meanwhile  (Novem- 
ber, 1633),  he  heard  of  the  censure  and  condemnation 
of  Galileo.  This  led  him  not  only  to  stay  the  publica- 
tion of  the  book,  but  even  to  talk  of  burning  the  manu- 
script, which  he  seems  to  have  done  in  part.  Descartes 
might  no  doubt  have  taken  generally  a more  pronounced 
course  in  the  statement  of  his  opinions;  but,  looking  to 
the  jealous  antagonism  between  the  modern  spirit  repre- 
sented by  philosophy  and  literature  on  the  one  hand, 
and  the  old  represented  by  theology  on  the  other,  during 
the  immediately  preceding  period  of  the  Renaissance  and 
in  his  own  time,  it  is  doubtful  whether  such  a line  of 
action  would  have  been  equally  successful  in  gaining 
acceptance  for  his  new  views,  and  promoting  the  interests 
of  truth.  An  original  thinker,  with  the  recent  fates  of 
Ramus,  Bruno,  and  Vanini  before  his  eyes,  to  say  noth- 
ing of  the  loathsome  dungeon  of  Campanella,  may  be 
excused  for  being  somewhat  over-prudent.  At  any  rate, 


INTRODUCTION 


5 


it  is  not  for  us  in  these  days  to  cast  stones  at  a man  of 
his  character  and  circumstances.  In  these  times  singu- 
larity of  opinion,  whether  it  imply  originality  and  judg- 
ment or  not,  is  quite  as  much  a passport  to  reputation 
with  one  set  of  people  as  the  most  pronounced  orthodoxy 
is  with  another. 

Even  in  Holland,  however,  he  was  not  destined  to  find 
the  absolute  repose  and  freedom  from  annoyance  which 
he  sought  and  valued  so  highly.  The  publication  of  the 
Method  brought  down  on  him  the  unreasoning  violence 
of  the  well-known  Voet  (Voetius),  Protestant  clergyman 
at  Utrecht,  and  afterward  rector  of  the  university  there. 
With  the  characteristic  blindness  of  the  man  of  theo- 
logical traditions,  he  accused  Descartes  of  atheism.  Voet 
allied  himself  with  Schook  (Schookius),  of  Groningen. 
The  two  sought  the  help  of  the  magistrates.  Descartes 
replied  to  the  latter,  who,  in  a big  book,  had  accused 
him  of  scepticism,  atheism,  and  madness.  The  influence 
of  Voet  was  such  that  he  got  the  magistrates  to  prepare 
a secret  process  against  the  philosopher.  (<  Their  inten- 
tion, ® says  Saisset,  <(  was  to  condemn  him  as  atheist  and 
calumniator:  as  atheist,  apparently  because  he  had  given 
new  proofs  of  the  existence  of  God;  as  calumniator,  be- 
cause he  had  repelled  the  calumnies  of  his  enemies.® 
The  ambassador  of  France,  with  the  help  of  the  Prince 
of  Orange,  stopped  the  proceedings.  Descartes  is  not 
the  only,  nor  even  the  most  recent  instance,  in  which 
men  holding  truths  traditionally  cannot  distinguish  their 
friends  from  their  foes. 

Queen  Christina  of  Sweden,  daughter  of  the  great 
Gustavus  Adolphus,  had  come  under  the  influence  of  the 
writings  of  Descartes.  She  began  a correspondence  with 
him  on  philosophical  points,  and  finally  prevailed  upon 
him  to  leave  Holland,  and  come  to  reside  in  Stockholm. 
He  reached  that  capital  in  October,  1649.  The  winter 
proved  hard  and  severe,  and  the  queen  insisted  on  hav- 
ing her  lecture  in  philosophy  at  five  in  the  morning.  The 
constitution  of  the  philosopher,  never  robust,  succumbed 
to  the  climate.  He  died  of  inflammation  of  the  lungs,  on 
the  nth  February,  1650,  at  the  age  of  fifty-four.  In 
1666  his  remains  were  brought  to  France  and  interred 
in  Paris,  in  the  church  of  Sainte-Genevikve.  (<  On  the 
24th  June,  1667,®  says  Saisset,  (<a  solemn  and  magnifi- 


6 


INTRODUCTION 


cent  service  was  performed  in  his  honor.  The  funeral 
oration  should  have  been  pronounced  after  the  service; 
but  there  came  an  order  from  the  Court  [in  the  midst  of 
the  ceremony]  which  prohibited  its  delivery.  History 
ought  to  say  that  the  man  who  solicited  and  obtained 
that  order  was  the  Father  Le  Tellier. " A finer  illustra- 
tion of  contemporary  narrowness  before  the  breadth  and 
power  of  genius  could  not  well  be  found. 

In  1796,  the  decree  made  by  the  Convention  three  years 
before,  that  the  honors  of  the  Pantheon  should  be  ac- 
corded to  Descartes,  was  presented  by  the  Directory  to 
the  Council  of  the  Cinq-Cents,  by  whom  it  was  rejected. 
It  was  thus  that  the  national  philosopher  of  France  was 
treated  by  ecclesiastic  and  revolutionist  alike. 

In  1819,  the  remains  of  Descartes  were  removed  from 
the  Court  of  the  Louvre,  whither  they  had  been  trans- 
ferred from  Sainte-Genevi&ve,  to  Saint-Germain-des-Prds. 
There  Descrates  now  lies  between  Montfaucon  and  Ma- 
billon. 


II.  Philosophy  in  the  Fifteenth  and  Sixteenth 
Centuries  Preceding  Descartes. 

The  first  step  in  the  continuous  progress  to  the  prin- 
ciple of  free  inquiry,  whose  influence  we  now  feel,  was 
taken  in  the  fifteenth  century.  This  epoch  presented  for 
the  first  time  in  modern  history  the  curious  spectacle  of 
the  supreme  authority  in  matters  of  thought  and  faith 
turned  against  itself.  The  principle  of  authority  had 
been  consecrated  by  scholasticism.  During  its  continu- 
ance, intellectual  activity  was  confined  to  methodizing 
and  demonstrating  the  truths  or  dogmas  furnished  to  the 
mind  by  the  Church.  No  mediaeval  philosopher  thought 
of  questioning  the  truth  of  a religious  dogma,  even  when 
he  found  it  philosophically  false  or  indemonstrable.  The 
highest  court  of  philosophical  appeal  in  scholasticism 
was  Aristotle ; and  the  received  interpretations  of  <(  the 
philosopher 9 had  become  identified  with  the  dogmas 
sanctioned  by  the  Church,  and  therefore  with  its  credit 
and  authority.  But  events  occurred  in  the  middle  of  the 
fifteenth  century  which  tended  to  disparage  the  Aristotle 
of  the  Schools.  Hitherto  the  writings  of  Aristotle  had 


INTRODUCTION 


7 


been  known  in  Europe  only  through  Latin  translations, 
often  badly  and  incompetently  made  from  the  Arabic 
and  Hebrew.  The  emigration  of  learned  Greeks  from 
the  empire  of  the  East  under  the  pressure  of  Turkish 
invasion,  and  finally  the  fall  of  Constantinople  in  1453, 
led  to  the  distribution  of  the  originals  of  Aristotle  over 
Italy,  and  the  spread  of  the  Greek  language  in  Western 
Europe.  With  the  knowledge  thus  acquired  at  first  hand, 
Pomponatius  (1462-1524  or  1526)  disputed  the  dogmas  of 
the  Aristotle  of  the  Schools  and  the  Church.  Hence- 
forward the  Aristotelians  were  divided  into  two  Schools, — 
the  Averroists  or  traditional  interpreters,  and  the  fol- 
lowers of  “the  Commentator, » Alexander  of  Aphrodisias. 
Pomponatius  was  the  head  of  the  latter  party.  While 
still  recognizing  his  authority  as  the  highest,  Pomponatius 
denied  that  the  Aristotle  which  the  Church  accepted  was 
the  true  one.  The  real  Aristotle,  according  to  his  view,  de- 
nied a divine  providence,  the  immortality  of  the  soul,  and 
a beginning  of  the  world;  or,  as  he  sometimes  put  it, 
Aristotle  did  not  give  adequate  proof  on  those  points. 
The  philosopher  and  the  Church  were  therefore  in  con- 
tradiction. This  led  to  ardent  discussion, — the  opening 
of  men’s  minds  to  the  deepest  questions, — the  beginning, 
in  a word,  of  free  thought.  And  there  was  also  the 
practical  result,  that  the  fifteenth-century  philosopher  de- 
nied what  he  as  a Churchman  professed  to  believe,  or 
rather  did  not  dare  to  disavow.  It  was  obvious  that  the 
course  of  thinking  could  not  rest  here.  It  must  pass  be- 
yond this,  urged  alike  by  the  demands  of  reason  and  the 
interests  of  conscience. 

But  the  inner  spirit  of  scholasticism  had  pretty  well 
worked  itself  out.  It  was  a body  of  thought  remarkable 
for  its  order  and  symmetry,  well  knit  and  squared,  solid 
and  massive,  like  a mediaeval  fortress.  But  it  was  in- 
adequate as  a representation  and  expression  of  the  free 
life  that  was  working  in  the  literature,  and  even  in  the 
outside  nascent  philosophy,  of  the  time.  It  was  formed 
for  conservation  and  defense,  not  for  progress.  New 
weapons  were  being  forged  which  must  inevitably  prevail 
against  it,  just  as  the  discovery  of  gunpowder  had  been 
quietly  superseding  the  heavy  panoply  of  the  knight. 
Several  thoughtful  men  were  already  dissatisfied  alike 
with  the  Aristotle  of  the  schoolmen  and  the  manuscripts. 


8 


INTRODUCTION 


Opportunely  enough,  the  circumstances  which  led  to  the 
discovery  of  the  original  Aristotle  led  also  to  the  reve- 
lation of  the  original  Plato.  'Some  thinkers  fell  back  on 
the  earlier  philsopher,  stimulated  to  enthusiasm  by  the 
elevation  of  his  transcendent  dialectic.  Notably  among 
these  were  Pletho  (born  about  1390,  and  died  about  1490); 
his  pupil,  Bessarion  (1395  or  1389-1472);  Giovanni  Pico 
della  Mirandola  (the  nephew  of  Francisco,  born  1463, 
died  1494);  Ficino,  tutor  to  Lorenzo  de  Medici  (1433- 
1499);  Patrizi  (1529-1597).  Influenced  a good  deal  by 
the  spirit  of  mediaeval  mysticism,  these  thinkers  for  the 
most  part  clothed  their  Plato  in  the  garb  of  Plotinus  and 
the  Neo-Platonists.  Others  were  led  to  the  still  earlier 
Greek  philosophers.  The  newly-awakened  spirit  of  ex- 
perience in  Telesio  (1508-1588)  and  in  Berigard  ( 1578- 
1667)  found  fitting  nourishment  in  the  Ionian  physicists; 
and,  later  in  the  same  line,  Gassendi  (1592-1655)  revived 
Epicurus.  All  this  implied  the  individual  right  of  select- 
ing the  authority  entitled  to  credence,  and  was  a protest 
against  scholasticism,  and  a step  toward  free  inquiry. 

The  men  of  letters  also  helped  to  swell  the  tide  rising 
strong  against  scholasticism.  The  abstract  and  often 
barbarous  language  of  the  schools  appeared  tasteless  and 
repulsive  alongside  the  rhythmic  diction  of  Cicero,  and 
the  polished  antitheses  of  Seneca.  The  spirit  of  imagin- 
ation and  literary  grace  had  been  repressed  to  the  utmost 
in  the  schools.  It  now  asserted  itself  with  the  intensity 
peculiar  to  a strong  reaction.  And  in  the  knowledge 
and  study  of  the  forms  of  the  classical  languages,  the 
mind  is  far  beyond  the  sphere  of  mere  deduction.  It  is 
but  one  remove  from  the  activity  of  thought  itself. 

Mysticism,  always  operative  in  the  middle  ages,  and 
indeed  involved  in  the  Neo-Platonism  already  spoken  of, 
came  to  its  height  in  the  period  of  the  Renaissance  — es- 
pecially under  Paracelsus,  (1493-1541)  and  Cardan  (1501- 
1 5 76 ) — and  then  under  Boehm  (1575-1624)  and  the  Van 
Helmonts  (father,  1577-1644,  and  son,  1618-1699).  The 
principle  of  transcendent  vision  by  intuition  was  in  direct 
antagonism  with  the  reasoned  authority  of  scholasticism. 
Boehm’s  philosophy  on  its  speculative  side  was  an  absolut- 
ism which  anticipated  Schelling,  and  Hegel  himself.  The 
self-diremption  of  consciousness  is  Boehm’s  favorite  and 
fundamental  point.  The  superstition  which  lay  at  the 


INTRODUCTION 


9 


heart  of  the  mysticism  of  the  time,  and  which  showed 
itself  practically  in  alchemy,  led  men  by  the  way  of 
experiment  to  natural  science,  especially  chemistry. 

At  length  in  the  sixteenth  century,  and,  as  if  to  show 
the  extreme  force  of  reaction,  in  Italy  itself  before  the 
throne  of  the  Pope  and  the  power  of  the  Inquisition, 
there  arose  in  succession  Bruno  (b.  about  1550,  d.  1600), 
Vanini  (1581  or  85-1619),  and  Campanella  (1568-1639)  — 
all  deeply  inspired  by  the  spirit  of  revolt  against  authority, 
and  a freedom  of  thought  that  reached  even  a fantastic 
license.  Bruno  in  the  spirit  of  the  Eleatics  and  Plotinus, 
proclaimed  the  absolute  unity  of  all  things  in  the  inde- 
terminable substance,  which  is  God;  Vanini  carried  em- 
piricism to  atheism  and  materialism ; and  Campanella 
united  the  extremes  of  high  churchman  and  sensationalist, 
mystical  metaphysician  and  astrologist. 

The  thoughts  of  this  period,  from  the  fifteenth  to  well 
on  in  the  sixteenth  century,  have  been  described  as  <(  the 
upturnings  of  a volcano.  ® The  time  was  indeed  the  vol- 
canic epoch  in  European  thought.  The  principal  figures 
we  can  discern  in  it  seem  to  move  amid  smoke  and  tur- 
moil, and  to  pass  away  in  flame.  The  tragic  fate  of 
Bruno  in  the  fire  at  Rome,  and  that  of  Vanini  in  the 
fire  at  Toulouse  — both  done  to  death  at  the  instance  of 
the  vulgar  unintelligence  of  the  Catholicism  of  the  time 
— form  two  of  the  darkest  and  coarsest  crimes  ever  per- 
petrated in  the  name  of  a Church.  The  Church,  which 
claims  to  represent  the  truth  of  God,  dare  not  touch  with 
a violent  hand  speculative  opinion.  It  is  then  false  to 
itself. 

In  France,  and  in  the  university  of  Paris,  the  strong- 
hold of  Peripateticism,  Ramus  (15 15-15 72)  attacked  Aris- 
totle in  the  most  violent  manner.  In  Ramus  was 
concentred  the  spirit  of  philosophical  and  literary  antag- 
onism to  the  schoolmen.  It  was  wholly  unmodified  by 
judgment  or  discrimination,  and  it  did  not  proceed  on  a 
thorough  or  even  adequate  acquaintance  with  the  object 
of  its  assault.  Ramus  is  remarkable  chiefly  for  the  ex- 
treme freedom  which  he  asserted  in  oratorically  denounc- 
ing what  he  considered  to  be  the  principles  of  Aristotle ; 
but  he  made  no  real  advance  either  in  the  principles  of 
logical  method  which  he  professed,  or  in  philosophy  it- 
self. At  the  same  time,  the  rude  intensity  and  the  pas- 


IO 


INTRODUCTION 


sionate  earnestness  of  his  life  were  not  unworthily  sealed 
by  his  bloody  death  on  the  Eve  of  St.  Bartholomew. 
The  death  of  Ramus,  though  attributed  directly  to  per- 
sonal enmity,  was  really  a blow  struck  alike  at  Protest- 
antism and  the  freedom  of  modern  thought. 

Bruno,  Vanini,  Campanella,  and  Ramus  foreshadowed 
Descartes  and  the  modern  spirit,  only  in  the  emphatic 
assertion  of  the  freedom,  individuality,  and  supremacy 
of  thought.  What  in  thought  is  firm,  assured,  and  uni- 
versal, they  have  not  pointed  out.  They  were  actuated 
mainly  by  an  implicit  sense  of  inadequacy  in  the  current 
principles  and  doctrines  of  the  time.  It  was  not  given 
to  any  of  them  to  find  a new  and  strong  foundation 
whereon  to  build  with  clear,  consistent,  and  reasonable 
evidence.  Campanella  said  of  himself  not  inaptly:  <(  I 

am  but  the  bell  ( campanella ) which  sounds  the  hour  of 
a new  dawn. * 

Alongside  of  those  more  purely  speculative  tendencies, 
Copernicus,  Kepler,  Galileo,  and  Bacon  represented  the 
new  spirit  and  theory  of  observation  applied  to  nature. 
The  formalism  of  the  Schools  had  abstracted  almost 
entirely  from  the  natural  world.  It  was  a * dreamland 
of  intellectualism.”  And  now  there  came  an  intense 
reaction,  out  of  which  has  arisen  modern  science.  Bacon 
had  given  to  the  world  the  Novum  Organum  in  1620, 
seventeen  years  before  the  Method  of  Descartes,  but  his 
precept  was  as  yet  only  slightly  felt,  and  he  had  but 
little  in  common  with  Descartes,  except  an  appeal  to 
reality  on  a different  side  from  that  of  the  Continental 
philosopher.  Descartes  had  not  seen  the  Organum  pre- 
viously to  his  thinking  out  the  Method.  He  makes  but 
three  or  four  references  to  Bacon  in  all  his  writings. 

If  to  these  influences  we  add  the  spirit  of  religious 
reformation,  the  debates  regarding  the  relative  authority 
of  the  Scriptures  and  the  Church,  and  mainly  as  a con- 
sequence of  the  chaos  and  conflict  of  thought  in  the  age, 
the  course  of  philosophical  scepticism  initiated  by  Cor- 
nelius Agrippa  (1486-1535),  and  made  fashionable  espe- 
cially by  Montaigne  (1533-1592),  and  continued  by  Charron 
(1541-1603),  with  its  self-satisfied  worldliness  and  its  low 
and  conventional  ethic,  we  shall  understand  the  age  in 
which  the  youth  of  Descartes  was  passed,  and  the  influ- 
ences under  which  he  was  led  to  speculation.  We  shall 


INTRODUCTION 


1 1 


be  able  especially  to  see  how  he,  a man  of  penetrating 
and  comprehensive  intelligence,  yet  with  a strong  con- 
servative instinct  for  what  was  elevating  in  morals  and 
theology,  was  led  to  seek  for  an  ultimate  ground  of  cer- 
tainty, if  that  were  possible,  not  in  tradition  or  dogma 
of  philosopher  or  churchman,  but  in  what  commended 
itself  to  him  as  self-verifying  and  therefore  ultimate  in 
knowledge  — in  other  words,  a limit  to  doubt,  a criterion 
of  certainty,  and  a point  of  departure  for  a constructive 
philosophy. 


III.  The  Cogito  Ergo  Sum  — Its  Nature  and  Meaning. 

The  man  in  modern  times,  or  indeed  in  any  time,  who 
first  based  philosophy  on  consciousness,  and  sketched  a 
philosophical  method  within  the  limits  of  consciousness, 
was  Descartes;  and  since  his  time,  during  these  two 
hundred  and  fifty  years,  no  one  has  shown  a more  accu- 
rate view  of  the  ultimate  problem  of  philosophy,  or  of 
the  conditions  under  which  it  must  be  dealt  with.  The 
question  with  him  is  — Is  there  an  ultimate  in  knowledge 
which  can  guarantee  itself  to  me  as  true  and  certain  ? 
and,  consequently  upon  this,  can  I obtain  as  it  were  from 
this  — supposing  it  found  — a criterion  of  truth  and  cer- 
tainty ? 

In  the  settlement  of  these  questions,  the  organon  of 
Descartes  is  doubt.  This  with  him  means  an  exami- 
nation by  reflection  of  the  facts  and  possibilities  of  con- 
sciousness. Of  what  and  how  far  can  I doubt.  I can 
doubt,  Descartes  would  say,  whether  it  be  true,  as  my 
senses  testify,  or  seem  to  testify,  that  a material  world 
really  exists.  I am  not  here  by  any  necessity  of  thought 
shut  within  belief.  I can  doubt,  he  even  says,  of  mathe- 
matical truths  — at  least  when  the  evidence  is  not  directly 
present  to  my  mind.  At  what  point  then  do  I find  that  a 
reflective  doubt  sets  limits  to  itself  ? This  limit  he  finds 
in  self-consciousness,  implying  or  being  self-existence.  It 
will  be  found  that  this  method  makes  the  least  possible 
postulate  or  assumption.  It  starts  simply  from  the  fact 
of  a conscious  questioning;  it  proceeds  to  exhaust  the 
sphere  of  the  doubtable;  and  it  reaches  that  truth  or 
principle  which  is  its  own  guarantee.  If  we  cannot  find 


12 


INTRODUCTION 


a principle  or  principles  of  this  sort  in  knowledge,  within 
the  limits  of  consciousness,  we  shall  not  be  able  to  find 
either  ultimate  truth  or  principle  at  all.  Philosophy  is 
impossible. 

But  the  process  must  be  accurately  observed.  There 
is  the  consciousness  — that  is,  this  or  that  act  or  state  of 
consciousness  — even  when  I doubt.  This  cannot  be  sub- 
lated,  except  by  another  act  of  consciousness.  To  doubt 
whether  there  is  consciousness  at  a given  moment,  is  to 
be  conscious  of  the  doubt  in  that  given  moment;  to  be- 
lieve that  the  testimony  of  consciousness  at  a given  time 
is  false,  is  still  to  be  conscious  — conscious  of  the  belief. 
This,  therefore,  a definite  act  of  consciousness,  is  the  neces- 
sary implicate  of  any  act  of  knowledge.  The  impossi- 
bility of  the  sublation  of  the  act  of  consciousness, 
consistently  with  the  reality  of  knowledge  at  all,  is  the 
first  and  fundamental  point  of  Descartes.  This  it  is  very 
important  to  note,  for  every  other  point  in  his  philoso- 
phy that  is  at  all  legitimately  established  depends  on  this : 
and  particularly  the  fact  of  the  I ” or  self  of  conscious- 
ness. The  reality  of  the  (<  I ® or  (<  Ego  ® of  Descartes  is 
inseparably  bound  up  with  the  fact  of  the  definite  act 
of  consciousness.  But,  be  it  observed,  he  does  not  prove 
or  deduce  the  (<  Ego  ” from  the  act  of  consciousness ; he 
finds  it  or  realizes  it  as  a matter  of  fact  in  and  along  with 
this  act.  The  act  and  the  Ego  are  the  two  inseparable 
factors  of  the  same  fact  or  experience  in  a definite  time. 
But  as  the  consciousness  is  absolutely  superior  to  subla- 
tion, so  is  that  which  is  its  essential  element  or  cofactor 
— in  other  words,  the  whole  fact  of  experience  — the 
conscious  act  and  the  conscious  <(  I ” or  actor  are  placed 
on  the  same  level  of  the  absolutely  indubitable. 

By  <(  I think ” or  by  (<  thinking  * Descartes  thus  does 
not  mean  thought  or  consciousness  in  the  abstract.  It 
is  not  cogitatio  ergo  ens,  or  entitas,  but  cogito  ergo  sum; 
that  is,  the  concrete  fact  of  me  thinking.  That  this  is  so, 
can  be  established  from  numerous  statements.  “Under 
thought  I embrace  all  that  which  is  in  us,  so  that  we 
are  immediately  conscious  of  it. ” “A  thing  which  thinks 
is  a thing  which  doubts,  understands  [conceives],  affirms, 
denies,  which  wills,  refuses,  imagines  also,  and  perceives.” 
Here  thinking  is  as  wide  as  consciousness;  but  it  is  not 
consciousness  in  the  abstract;  it  is  consciousness  viewed 


INTRODUCTION 


13 


in  each  of  its  actual  or  definite  forms.  From  this  it  fol- 
lows that  the  principle  does  not  tell  us  what  conscious- 
ness is;  it  knows  nothing  of  an  abstract  consciousness, 
far  less  of  a point  above  consciousness;  but  it  is  the 
knowledge  and  assertion  of  consciousness  in  one  or  other 
of  its  modes — or  rather  it  is  an  expression  of  conscious- 
ness only  as  I have  experience  of  it — in  this  or  that 
definite  form. 

Arnauld  and  Mersenne  in  their  criticism  of  Descartes 
were  the  first  to  point  out  the  resemblance  of  the  cogito 
ergo  sum  to  statements  of  St.  Augustin.  Descartes  him- 
self had  not  previously  been  aware  of  thfese.  The  truth 
is,  he  belonged  to  the  school  of  the  non-reading  philoso- 
phers. He  cared  very  little  for  what  had  been  thought 
or  said  before  him.  The  passage  from  Augustin  which 
has  been  referred  to  as  closest  to  the  statement  of 
Descartes  is  from  the  De  Civitate  Dei , 1.  xi.,  c.  26.  It 
closes  as  follows:  (< Sine  ulla  phantasarium  vel  phantasma- 
turn  imaginatione  ludificatoria , mihi  esse  me,  idque  nosse  et 
amare  certissimum  est.  Nulla  in  his  veris  Academicorum 
argumenta , formido  dicentium  : Quid,  si  falleris  ? Si  enim 
fallor,  sum.  Nam  qui  non  est,  utique  nec  falli  potest : ac 
per  hoc  sum,  si  fallor.  Quia  ergo  sum,  qui  fallor,  quo- 
modo  esse  me  fallor , quando  certum  est  me  esse  si  fallor  ? n 
On  this  passage  Descartes  himself  very  properly  remarks, 
that  while  the  principle  may  be  identical  with  his  own, 
the  consequences  which  he  deduces  from  it,  and  its  posi- 
tion as  the  ground  of  a philosophical  system,  make  the 
characteristic  difference  between  Augustin  and  himself. 
The  specialty  of  Descartes  is  that  he  reached  this  prin- 
ciple of  self-consciousness  as  the  last  limit  of  doubt  and 
made  it  then  the  starting-point  of  his  system.  There  is 
all  the  difference  in  his  case,  between  the  man  who  by 
chance  stumbles  on  a fact,  and  leaves  it  isolated  as  he 
found  it,  and  the  man  who  reaches  it  by  method — and, 
with  a full  consciousness  of  its  importance,  develops  it 
through  the  ramifications  of  a philosophical  system.  To 
him  the  fact  when  found  is  a significant  truth  as  the 
limit  of  restless  thought;  it  is  not  less  significant  and 
impulsive  as  a new  point  of  departure  in  the  line  of 
higher  truth. 

But  what  precisely  is  the  relation  between  the  cogito 
and  the  sum?  Is  it,  first  of  all,  a syllogistic  or  an 


14 


INTRODUCTION 


immediate  inference  ? Is  the  cogito  ergo  sum  an  enthymeme 
or  a proposition  ? 

There  can  be  no  doubt  that  Descartes  himself  regarded 
it  as  a form  of  proposition,  an  intuition,  not  a syllogism. 
In  reply  to  Gassendi,  who  objected  that  cogito  ergo  sum 
implies  qui  cogitat , est, — a pre-judgment, — Descartes  says: 
wThe  term  pre-judgment  is  here  abused.  Pre-judgment 
there  is  none,  when  the  cogito  ergo  sum  is  duly  con- 
sidered, because  it  then  appears  so  evident  to  the  mind 
that  it  cannot  keep  itself  from  believing  it,  the  moment 
even  it  begins  to  think  of  it.  But  the  principal  mistake 
here  is  this,  that  the  objector  supposes  that  the  cognition 
of  particular  propositions  is  always  deduced  from  univer- 
sal, according  to  the  order  of  the  syllogisms  of  logic. 
He  thus  shows  that  he  is  ignorant  of  the  way  in  which 
truth  is  to  be  sought.  For  it  is  settled  among  philos- 
ophers, that  in  order  to  find  it  a beginning  must  always 
be  made  from  particular  notions,  that  afterward  the 
universal  may  be  reached;  although  also  reciprocally, 
universals  being  found,  other  particulars  may  thence  be 
deduced.  ” Again  he  says : (<  When  we  apprehend  that 
we  are  thinking  things,  this  is  a first  notion  which  is  not 
drawn  from  any  syllogism;  and  when  some  one  says, 
i think,  hence  i am,  or  i exist,  he  does  not  conclude 
his  existence  from  his  thought  as  by  force  of  some 
syllogism,  but  as  a thing  known  of  itself;  he  sees  it  by 
a simple  intuition  of  the  mind,  as  appears  from  this,  that 
if  he  deduced  it  from  a syllogism,  he  must  beforehand 
have  known  this  major,  all  that  which  thinks  is  or 
exists.  Whereas,  on  the  contrary,  this  is  rather  taught 
him,  from  the  fact  that  he  experiences  in  himself  that  it 
cannot  be  that  he  thinks  if  he  does  not  exist.  For  it  is 
the  property  of  our  mind  to  form  general  propositions 
from  the  knowledge  of  particulars.”  This  is  a clear 
statement  of  the  non-syllogistic  nature  of  the  principle, 
and  a distinct  assertion  of  its  intuitive  character.  It  also 
points  to  the  guarantee  of  the  principle  — the  experiment 
of  not  being  able  to  suppose  consciousness  apart  from 
existence  — or  unless  as  implying  it.  This  and  other 
passages  might  have  saved  both  Reid  and  Kant  from 
the  mistake  of  supposing  that  Descartes  inferred  self- 
existence from  self-consciousness  syllogistically  or  through 
a major. 


INTRODUCTION 


IS 


It  is  said  that  in  the  Principles  Descartes  represents 
the  cogito  ergo  suvi  as  the  conclusion  of  a reasoning;  the 
major  premise  being  that  <(  to  nothing  no  affections  or 
qualities  belong. ” (<  Accordingly  where  we  observe  cer- 

tain affections,  there  a thing  or  substance  to  which  these 
pertain,  is  necessarily  found. ” Again,  (<  substance  cannot 
be  first  discovered  merely  from  its  being  a thing  which 
exists  independently,  for  existence  by  itself  is  not  observed 
by  us.  We  easily,  however,  discover  substance  itself 
from  any  attribute  of  it,  by  this  common  notion,  that  of 
nothing  there  are  no  attributes,  properties  or  qualities.” 
It  seems  to  me  that  there  is  nothing  in  these  state- 
ments, when  carefully  considered,  to  justify  this  asser- 
tion. In  fact,  the  second  statement  that  substance  or 
being  is  not  cognizable  per  se,  disposes  of  any  apparent 
ground  for  the  syllogistic  character  of  the  inference. 
For  this  implies  that  the  so-called  major,  as  by  itself 
incognizable,  is  not  a major  at  all.  What  Descartes 
points  to  here,  and  very  properly,  is  the  original  synthe- 
sis of  the  relation  of  quality  and  substance.  <(  The  com- 
mon notion  ” is  the  reflective  way  of  stating  what  is 
involved  in  the  original  primitive  intuition ; and  is  as 
much  based  on  this  intuition,  as  this  intuition  implies  it. 
He  here  approximates  very  nearly  to  a distinct  state- 
ment of  the  important  doctrine  that  in  regard  to  funda- 
mental principles  of  knowing,  the  particular  and  the 
universal  are  from  the  first  implicitly  given,  and  only 
wait  philosophical  analysis  to  bring  them  to  light. 

But  misrepresentation  of  the  true  nature  of  the  cogito 
ergo  sum  still  continues  to  be  made. 

The  { therefore, ’ ” says  Professor  Huxley,  (<  has  no 
business  there.  The  (I  am1  is  assumed  in  the  (I  think,’ 
which  is  simply  another  way  of  saying  < I am  thinking.  ’ 
And,  in  the  second  place,  ‘I  think,’  is  not  one  simple 
proposition,  but  three  distinct  assertions  rolled  into  one. 
The  first  of  these  is  ( something  called  I exists , ’ the  second 
is  ( something  called  thought  exists,  ’ and  the  third  is  ( the 
thought  is  the  result  of  the  action  of  the  I.  ’ The  only  one 
of  these  propositions  which  can  stand  the  Cartesian  test 
of  certainty  is  the  second.  It  cannot  be  doubted,  for  the 
very  doubt  is  an  existent  thought.  But  the  first  and 
third,  whether  true  or  not,  may  be  doubted,  and  have 
been  doubted;  for  the  asserter  may  be  asked,  how  do 


j6 


INTRODUCTION 


you  know  that  thought  is  not  self-existent,  or  that  a 
given  thought  is  not  the  effect  of  its  antecedent  thought 
or  of  some  external  power  ? ” 

The  <(  therefore  ” has  business  there,  as  seems  to  me, 
until  it  is  shown  that  immediate  inference  is  no  infer- 
ence. The  (<  I am  ” is  not  assumed  in  the  <(  I think,  ” 
but  implied  in  it,  and  explicitly  evolved  from  it.  Then 
the  " I think,  ” though  capable  of  being  evolved  into  a 
variety  of  expressions,  even  different  statements  of  fact, 
is  not  dependent  on  them  for  its  reality  or  meaning,  but 
they  are  dependent  upon  it.  There  are  not  three  dis- 
tinct assertions  first,  which  have  been  rolled  into  one. 
On  the  contrary,  the  meaning  and  possibility  of  any 
assertion  whatever  are  supplied  by  the  <(  I think  ” itself. 
"Something  called  I exists,”  is  not  known  to  me  before 
I am  conscious,  but  only  as  I am  conscious.  It  is  not  a 
distinct  proposition.  " Something  called  thought  exists,  ” 
is  not  any  more  a distinct  proposition,  for  the  thought 
which  exists  is  inseparably  my  thought,  and  my  thought 
is  more  than  the  mere  abstraction  " thought.  ” <(  The 

thought  is  the  result  of  the  action  of  the  I ” is  not  a fair 
statement  of  the  relation  between  the  (<  I ” and  thought, 
for  there  is  no  ® I ” known,  first  or  distinct  from  thought, 
to  whose  action  I can  ascribe  thought.  The  thought  is  me 
thinking.  And  the  existence  of  thought  could  never  be 
absolutely  indubitable  to  me,  unless  it  were  my  thought, 
for  if  it  be  but  thought,  this  is  an  abstraction  with 
which  <(  I ” have  and  can  have  no  relation.  " How  do 
you  know  that  thought  is  not  self-existent  ? ” that  is, 
divorced  from  a me  or  thinker;  for  this  reason  simply, 
that  such  a thought  could  never  be  mine,  or  aught  to 
me,  or  my  knowledge.  Thought,  divorced  from  me  or 
a thinker,  would  be  not  so  much  an  absurdity  as  a 
nullity.  (<  How  do  you  know  that  a given  thought  is 
not  the  effect  of  its  antecedent  thought  or  of  some  ex-, 
ternal  power  ? ” Because  as  yet  I have  no  knowledge  of 
any  antecedent  thought,  and  if  I had,  I must  know  the 
thought  and  its  antecedent  thought  through  the  identity 
of  my  consciousness ; and  thus  relate  both  to  the  I,  ” 
conscious,  existing,  and  identical.  And  as  to  some  ex- 
ternal power,  I must  wait  for  the  proof  of  it,  and  if  I 
ever  get  it,  it  must  be  because  I am  there  to  think  the 
proof,  and  distinguish  it  from  myself  as  an  external 


INTRODUCTION 


1 7 


power.  And  further,  this  external  power  can  only  be 
known,  in  so  far  as  I am  conscions  of  it.  Its  known 
existence  depends  on  my  consciousness,  as  one  factor  in 
it,  and  therefore  my  consciousness  could  never  be 
absolutely  caused  by  it. 

The  cogito  ergo  sum  is  thus  properly  regarded  by  Des- 
cartes as  a propostion.  It  is  in  fact,  what  we  should  now 
call  a proposition  of  immediate  inference, — such  that  the 
predicate  is  necessarily  implied  in  the  subject.  The  re- 
quirements of  the  case  preclude  it  from  being  advanced 
as  a syllogism  or  mediate  inference.  For  in  that  case  it 
would  not  be  the  first  principle  of  knowledge,  or  the  first 
stage  of  certainty  after  doubt.  The  first  principle  would 
be  the  major — all  that  thinks  is,  or  thinking  is  exist- 
ing. To  begin  with,  this  is  to  reverse  the  true  order  of 
knowledge ; to  suppose  that  the  universal  is  known  before 
the  particular.  It  is  to  suppose  also,  erroneously,  a 
purely  abstract  beginning;  for  if  I am  able  to  say,  I am 
conscious  that  all  thinking  is  existing,  the  guarantee 
even  of  this  major  or  universal  is  the  particular  affirma- 
tion of  my  being  conscious  of  its  truth  in  a given  time; 
if  I am  not  able  to  say  this,  then  I cannot  assert  that  all 
or  any  thinking  is  existing,  or  indeed  assert  anything  at 
all.  In  other  words,  I can  connect  no  truth  with  my  being 
conscious.  I cannot  know  at  all. 

But  what  precisely  is  the  character  of  the  immediate 
implication  ? What  is  implied  ? There  are  four  possible 
meanings  of  the  phrase. 

1.  My  being  or  existence  is  the  effect  or  product  of  my 
being  conscious.  My  being  conscious  creates  or  produces 
my  being.  Here  my  consciousness  is  first  in  order  of 
existence. 

2.  My  being  conscious  implies  that  I am  and  was,  be- 
fore and  in  order  to  be  conscious. 

3.  My  being  conscious  is  the  means  of  my  knowing 
what  my  existence  is,  or  what  it  means.  Here  my  con- 
sciousness is  identical  with  my  existence.  My  conscious- 
ness and  my  being  are  convertible  phrases. 

4.  My  being  conscious  informs  me  that  I exist,  or 
through  my  being  conscious  I know  for  the  first  time 
that  I exist.  Here  my  being  conscious  is  first  in  order 
of  knowledge. 

With  regard  to  the  first  of  these  interpretations,  it  is 

2 


i8 


INTRODUCTION 


obviously  not  in  accordance  with  the  formula.  Implica 
tion  is  not  production  or  creation.  But,  further,  it  does 
not  interpret  the  sum  in  consistency  with  the  cogito.  If 
I am  first  of  all  supposed  to  be  conscious,  I am  supposed  to 
be  and  to  exercise  a function  or  to  be  modified  in  a par- 
ticular form.  It  could  hardly,  consistently  with  this,  be 
said  that  (<  I conscious  ® produce  or  create  myself,  seeing 
that  I am  already  in  being,  and  doing.  This  interpreta- 
tion may  be  taken  as  a forecast  of  the  absolute  ego  of 
Fichte,  out  of  which  come  the  ego  and  the  non-ego  of  con- 
sciousness. There  is  no  appearance  of  this  having  been 
the  meaning  of  Descartes  himself.  And,  indeed,  it  is 
not  vindicable  on  any  ground  either  of  experience  or  reason. 

With  regard  to  the  second  interpretation,  nothing 
could  be  further  from  the  meaning  of  Descartes.  I am 
conscious;  therefore,  I must  be  before  I am  conscious, 
or  I must  conceive  myself  to  be  before  I am  conscious. 
The  inference  in  this  case  would  be  to  my  existence 
from  my  present  or  actual  consciousness,  as  its  ground 
and  pre-requisite,  as  either  before  the  consciousness  in 
time,  or  to  be  necessarily  conceived  by  me  as  grounding 
the  consciousness.  There  are  passages  which  seem  to 
countenance  this  interpretation  — e.  g.,  <(  In  order  to  think, 
it  is  necessary  to  exist. » But  in  another  passage  he  says, 
that  all  that  thinks  exists  can  only  be  known  by  experi- 
menting in  oneself  and  finding  it  impossible  that  one 
should  be  conscious  unless  he  exist.  This  rather  points 
to  the  view  that  the  I am  of  the  formula  is  simply  another 
aspect  of  the  I am  conscious  — not  really  independently 
preceding  it  in  time  or  in  thought,  but  found  inseparable 
from  it  in  reality,  though  distinguishable  in  thought. 
That  my  existence  preceded  my  consciousness,  Descartes 
would  be  the  last  to  maintain;  that  I was  before  I was 
conscious,  he  would  have  scouted  as  an  absurdity.  That 
another  Ego  — viz,  Deity  — might  have  been,  even  was, 
he  makes  a matter  of  inference  from  my  being,  revealed  to 
me  even  by  my  being.  But  existence  in  the  abstract,  or 
existence  per  se  as  preceding  me  in  any  real  sense,  either 
as  a power  of  creation  or  self-determination  — whether  in 
time  and  thought,  or  in  thought  only  — he  would  have 
probably  looked  on  as  the  simple  vagary  of  speculation. 
He  was  opposed  to  the  absolute  ego  as  a beginning  — 
the  starting-point  of  Fichte  — which  as  above  conscious- 


INTRODUCTION 


ness  is  above  meaning.  He  was  opposed  equally  to 
abstract  or  quality-less  existence  as  a starting-point, 
which  is  that  of  the  Logic  of  Hegel,  whatever  attempts 
may  be  made  to  substitute  for  it  a more  concrete  basis 
— viz,  consciousness.  But  for  the  intuitional  knowledge 
of  myself  revealed  in  a definite  act,  it  is  obviously  the 
doctrine  of  Descartes,  and  of  truth,  that  I could  not  even 
propose  to  myself  the  question  as  to  whether  there  is 
either  knowledge  or  being;  and  any  universal  in  knowl- 
edge is  as  yet  to  me  simply  meaningless. 

With  regard  to  the  third  interpretation,  it  seems  to  me 
not  to  be  adequate  to  the  meaning  of  Descartes,  or  the 
requirements  of  the  case.  It  either  does  not  say  so  much 
as  Descartes  means,  or  it  says  more  than  it  professes  to 
say.  If  it  be  intended  to  say  my  consciousness  means 
my  existence  in  the  proper  sense  of  these  words, — i.  e., 
in  a purely  explicative  or  logical  sense  — we  have  ad- 
vanced not  one  step  in  the  way  of  asserting  my  exist- 
ence. We  have  but  compared  two  expressions,  and  said 
that  the  one  is  convertible  with  the  other.  But  we  may 
do  this  whether  the  expressions  denote  objects  of  expe- 
rience or  not.  This  is  a mere  comparison  of  notions ; and 
Descartes  certainly  intended  not  to  find  a simple  relation 
of  convertibility  between  two  notions  but  to  reach  cer- 
tainty as  to  a matter  of  experience  or  fact  — viz,  the 
reality  of  my  existence.  This  interpretation,  therefore, 
does  not  say  so  much  as  Descartes  intends.  But  further, 
if  instead  of  a statement  of  identity  or  convertibility  be- 
tween two  notions  it  says  that  the  one  notion  — viz,  my 
being  conscious  — is  found  or  realized  as  a fact,  this  is 
to  go  beyond  the  mere  conception  of  relationship  between 
it  and  another  notion  or  element,  and  to  allege  the  re- 
ality of  my  being  conscious  in  the  first  instance,  and 
secondly,  its  convertibility  with  my  being.  But  in  that 
case  the  formula  of  Descartes  does  not  simply  say  my 
consciousness  means  my  being.  This  interpretation  might 
be  stated  in  the  form  of  a hypothetical  proposition.  If  I 
am  conscious,  I am  existing.  But  Descartes  certainly 
went  further  than  this.  He  made  a direct  categorical 
assertion  of  my  existence.  The  decision  of  the  question 
as  to  what  my  existence  is  may  be  involved  in  the  as- 
sertion that  it  is,  but  this  is  secondary,  and,  it  may  be, 
immediately  inferential,  but  still  inferential. 


20 


INTRODUCTION 


We  are  thus  shut  up  to  the  fourth  interpretation 
which,  with  certain  qualifications,  is,  it  seems  to  me, 
the  true  one. 

My  being  conscious  is  the  means  of  revealing  myself 
as  existing.  In  the  order  of  knowledge,  my  being  con- 
scious is  first;  it  is  the  beginning  of  knowledge,  in  time 
and  logically.  But  it  is  not  a single-sided  fact:  it  is 
twofold  at  least.  No  sooner  is  the  my  being  conscious 
realized  than  the  my  being  is  realized.  In  so  far  at  least 
as  I am  conscious,  I am.  This  is  an  immediate  implica- 
tion. But  it  should  be  observed  that  this  does  not  imply 
either  the  absolute  identity  of  my  existence  with  my 
momentary  consciousness,  or  the  convertibility  of  my 
existence  with  that  consciousness.  For  the  (<  I conscious  ® 
or  my  being  conscious,  is  realized  by  me  only  in  a defi- 
nite moment  of  time;  and  thus  if  my  being  were  pre- 
cisely identical  and  convertible  with  my  being  conscious 
in  a single  moment  of  time,  the  permanency  of  my  being 
through  the  conscious  moments  would  be  impossible. 
(<  I ” should  simply  be  as  a gleam  of  light,  which  no 
sooner  appeared  than  it  passed  away,  and  as  various  as 
the  play  of  sunshine  on  the  landscape.  All,  therefore, 
that  can  be  said,  or  need  be  inferred,  is  that  my  exist- 
ence, or  the  me  I know  myself  to  be,  is  revealed  in  the 
consciousness  of  a definite  moment;  but  I am  not  enti- 
tled to  say  from  that  alone  that  the  being  of  me  is 
restricted  to  that  moment,  or  identified  absolutely  with 
the  content  of  that  moment.  Nay,  I may  find  that  the 
identity  and  continuity  of  the  momentary  ego  are  actually 
implied  in  the  fact  that  this  experience  of  its  existence 
is  not  possible  except  as  part  of  a series  of  moments  or 
successive  states.  In  this  case,  there  would  be  added  to 
the  mere  existence  of  the  ego  its  identity  or  continued 
existence  through  variety  or  succession  in  time.  Thus 
understood,  the  cogito  ergo  sum  of  Descartes  is  the  true 
basis  of  all  knowledge  and  all  philosophy.  It  is  a real 
basis,  the  basis  of  ultimate  fact;  it  provides  for  the  real- 
ity of  my  conscious  life  as  something  more  than  a dis- 
connected series  of  consciousnesses  or  a play  of  words ; it 
opens  up  to  me  infinite  possibilities  of  knowledge; 
the  reality  of  man  and  God  can  now  be  grasped  by 
me  in  the  form  of  the  permanency  of  self-conscious- 


ness. 


INTRODUCTION 


21 


IV.  Cogito  Ergo  Sum  — Objections  to  the  Principle. 

It  has  been  objected  to  the  formula  of  Descartes,  that 
it  does  not  say  what  the  sum  or  existo  means;  and  fur- 
ther, that  existence  per  se  is  a vague,  even  meaningless 
expression,  and  that  to  become  a notion  at  all,  existence 
must  be  cognized  in,  or  translated  into,  some  particular 
attribute,  to  which  the  term  existence  adds  no  further 
meaning  than  the  attribute  already  possesses.  This  two- 
fold objection  seems  to  me  to  be  unfounded. 

When  it  is  said  I am,  it  is  not  meant  that  I am  in- 
definitely anything,  but  that  I am  this  or  that,  at  a given 
time.  In  consciously  asserting  that  I am,  I am  con- 
sciously energizing  in  this  or  that  mode.  I am  knowing, 
or  I am  feeling  and  knowing,  or  I am  knowing  and  will- 
ing. This  is  a positive  form  of  being.  I am  not  called 
upon  to  vindicate  the  reality  of  existence  as  an  abstract 
notion  or  notion  per  se,  or  even  in  its  full  extension.  I 
merely  affirm  that  in  being  conscious,  I am  revealed  or 
appear  as  an  existence  or  being, — a perfectly  definite 
reality,  but  not  all  reality, — all  possible  or  imaginable 
reality,  though  participating  in  a being  which  is  or  may 
be  wider  than  my  being. 

Nor  are  the  attempts  that  have  been  made  to  find  the 
express  form  of  existence,  which  Descartes  is  held  nec- 
essarily to  mean,  more  successful  than  the  general  criti- 
cism. I exist  is  meaningless  ® it  is  said,  (<  unless  it  be 
convertible  with,  or  translated  into  some  positive  attri- 
bute.® (<I  think,  therefore  I live® — this  would  be  intel- 
ligible. But  Descartes’s  answer  to  this  would  be  very 
much  what  he  said  in  reply  to  Gassendi,  who,  following 
precisely  the  same  line  of  thought,  suggested  ambulo  ergo 
sum.  Unless  the  living  or  the  walking  be  a fact  of  my 
consciousness,  it  is  nothing  to  me,  and  is  no  part  of  my 
existence  or  being.  Life  is  wider  than  consciousness, — 
at  least  if  it  is  to  be  in  any  form  identical  with  my  being, 
it  must  be  conscious  life,  just  as  it  must  be  conscious 
walking. 

But  the  second  suggested  interpretation  is  still  worse. 
(<I  think,  therefore,  I am  something®  ( i.  e.,  either  sub- 
ject or  object,  I do  not  know  which).  Nothing  could  be 


22 


INTRODUCTION 


further  from  the  meaning  of  Descartes  than  this,  as  is 
indeed  admitted,  or  from  the  truth  of  the  matter.  I am 
not  something,  that  is,  a wholly  indefinite.  I am  as  I 
think  myself  to  be,  as  I am  conscious  in  this  or  that 
definite  mode,  as  I feel,  apprehend,  desire,  or  will. 
Being  thus  definitely  conscious,  I am  not  a mere  inde- 
terminate something.  I am  something  simply  because  in 
the  first  place  I know  myself  to  be  definitely  this  thing 
— myself.  And  as  I know  myself  to  be  cognizant,  I 
know  myself  to  be  definitely  the  knower,  or,  if  you  will, 
the  subject.  But  the  only  object  necessary  to  my  knowl- 
edge in  this  case  is  a subject-object,  or  one  of  my  own 
passing  states.  I require  nothing  further  in  the  form  of 
a not-self,  in  order  to  limit  and  render  clear  my  self- 
knowledge.  A mere  sensation  or  state  of  feeling  appre- 
hended by  me  as  mine  is  enough  to  constitute  me  a 
definite  something. 

Besides  the  alleged  vagueness  or  emptiness  of  the  term 
sum  in  the  formula,  there  is  a twofold  objection, — one 
that  it  is  not  a real  inference;  the  other  that  it  is  not  a 
real  proposition.  It  seems  odd  that  it  can  be  supposed 
possible  for  the  same  person  to  object  to  it  on  both  of 
these  grounds.  It  may  be  criticised  as  a syllogism,  and 
it  may  be  criticised  as  a proposition ; but  surely  it  cannot 
be  held  to  admit  of  both  these  characters.  If  it  can  be 
proved  to  be  not  a real  proposition  to  begin  with,  it  is 
superfluous  to  seek  to  prove  it  an  unreal  inference. 
First,  it  is  interpreted  thus : I think,  therefore  I am 

mind, — I am  not  the  opposite  of  mind,  I am  a definite 
or  precise  something.  * It  is  alleged  there  is  no  real  in- 
ference here,  for  <(  the  meaning  of  think  contains  the 
meaning  of  mind.  ® * I think  * only  contains  (<  mind  ® if 

it  be  interpreted  as  meaning  consciousness  and  all  its  con- 
tents— if  it  means  all  the  acts  of  consciousness  and  the 
ego  of  consciousness.  In  this  case  the  <(I  think,  I am 
mind  * would  be  no  syllogistic  or  mediate  inference.  But 
the  statement  would  neither  be  tautological  nor  useless; 
it  would  be  a proposition  of  immediate  certainty,  in  which 
the  subject  explicated  involved  a definite  being  as  another 
aspect  of  itself.  And  this  meets  the  objection  to  the 
formula  as  a proposition.  It  is  said  to  be  not  a real  prop- 
osition, seeing  that  the  predicate  adds  nothing  to  the 
subject.  This,  in  the  first  place,  is  not  the  test  of  a real 


INTRODUCTION 


23 


proposition,  or  of  what  is  essential  to  a proposition.  A 
proposition  may  be  simply  analytic,  and  yet  truly  a pro- 
position. All  that  is  necessary  to  constitute  a proposition 
is  that  it  should  imply  inclusion  or  exclusion,  attribution 
or  non-attribution.  When  I explicate  four  into  the 
equivalent  of  1 1 1 1,  I have  not  added  to  the  meaning 
of  the  subject,  but  I have  identified  a whole  and  its  parts 
by  a true  propositional  form.  I have  analyzed  no  doubt 
merely,  but  truly  and  necessarily,  and  the  result  appears 
in  a valid  proposition.  So  starting  from  <(  thinking  ® in 
the  sense  of  consciousness,  I analyze  it  also  into  act  and 
me,  and  permanent  me,  and  I thus  do  a very  proper  and 
necessary  work.  But  I do  more,  for  I assert  definitude 
of  being  in  the  thinking  or  consciousness, — and  this, 
though  inseparable  from  it  in  reality,  is  at  least  distin- 
guishable in  thought.  This  constitutes  a real  predicate, 
and  a very  important  predicate,  which  excludes  on  the 
one  hand  a mere  act  or  state,  mere  (<  thinking  ” as  apart 
from  a self  or  me,  and  an  absolute  me  or  self,  apart  from 
an  act  of  thought.  It  excludes,  in  fact,  Hume  on  the 
one  hand  and  Fichte  on  the  other. 

But  waving  this,  it  is  alleged  that  to  say  I think,® 
is  mere  redundancy,  seeing  that  <(  I ® already  means 
<(  thinking,  * which  is  a function,  among  others,  of  man. 
The  proposition  is  therefore  merely  verbal  or  analytic. 
But  how  do  I know  that  “I®  already  means  <(  thinking,  ® 
or  that  thinking  is  implied  in  <(  I * ? By  some  test  or 
other  — by  some  form  of  experience.  And  what  can  this 
be  but  by  the  (<  I ® being  conscious  of  itself  as  thinking  ? 
And  what  is  this  but  falling  back  upon  the  principle  of 
the  cogito  ergo  sum  as  the  ultimate  in  knowledge  ? 

It  seems  further  to  be  imagined  that  a real  inference 
could  be  got  if  the  formula  of  Descartes  were  interpreted 
as  meaning  a I think,  therefore  I feel,  and  also  will,  ® 
for  experience  shows  that  these  facts  are  associated.  This 
would  give  the  formula  importance  and  validity.  Surely 
there  is  a misconception  here  of  what  Descartes  aimed 
at,  or  ought  to  have  aimed  at.  Before  I can  associate 
experience,  a I feel  ® and  (<  I will  ® with  (<  I think,  ® I must 
have  the  <(  I think  ® in  some  definite  form.  This  must 
guarantee  itself  to  me  in  some  way;  that  is  the  question 
which  must  be  settled  first;  that  is  the  question  regard- 
ing the  condition  of  the  knowledge  alike  of  feeling  and 


24 


INTRODUCTION 


willing.  It  was  nothing  to  the  aim  of  Descartes  what 
was  associated  in  experience ; he  sought  the  ultimate 
form,  or  fact,  if  you  choose,  in  experience  itself,  and  his 
principle  must  be  met,  not  by  saying  that  it  only  gives 
certain  real  inferences  through  subsequent  association  and 
experience,  but  by  a direct  challenge  of  the  guarantee 
of  the  principle  itself  — a challenge  which  indeed  is  incom- 
patible with  its  being  the  basis  of  any  real  inference. 

To  the  cogito  ergo  sum  of  Descartes  it  was  readily  and  early 
objected,  that  if  it  identified  my  being  and  my  conscious- 
ness, then  I must  either  always  be  conscious,  or,  if  con- 
sciousness ceases,  I must  cease  to  be.  Descartes  chose 
the  former  alternative,  and  maintained  a continuity 
of  consciousness  through  waking  and  sleeping.  As  a 
thinking  substance,  the  soul  is  always  conscious.  Through 
feebleness  of  cerebral  impression,  it  does  not  always 
remember.  What  wonder  is  it,  he  asks,  that  we  do  not 
always  remember  the  thoughts  of  our  sleep  or  lethargy, 
when  we  often  do  not  remember  the  though  of  our 
waking  hours  ? Traces  on  the  brain  are  needed,  to  which 
the  soul  may  turn,  and  it  is  not  wonderful  that  they  are 
awanting  in  the  brain  of  a child  or  in  sleep.  That  the 
soul  always  thinks,  was  his  thesis;  and  it  was  to  this 
point  that  the  polemic  of  Locke  was  directed.  Whether 
consciousness  be  absolutely  continuous  or  not  — whether 
suspension  of  consciousness  in  time  be  merely  apparent, 
— is  a mixed  psychological  and  physiological  question. 
But  it  is  hardly  necessary  to  consider  it  in  this  connection; 
and  Descartes  probably  went  too  far  in  his  affirmative 
statement,  and  certainly  in  allowing  it  as  the  only 
counter-alternative.  For  consciousness  must  not  be  inter- 
preted in  the  narrow  sense  of  the  conscious  act  merely, 
or  of  all  conscious  acts  put  together.  That  would  be  an 
abstract  and  artificial  interpretation  of  consciousness. 
That  is  but  one  side  of  it;  and  we  must  take  into  account 
the  other  element  through  which  this  conscious  act  is 
possible,  and  which  is  distinguishable  but  inseparable 
from  it.  This  is  the  <(  I ® or  <(  Ego  ® itself.  When  we 
seek  to  analyze  my  being,  or  my  being  conscious,  we 
must  keep  in  mind  the  coequal  reality  or  necessary 
implication  of  self  and  the  conscious  act,  and  keep  hold 
of  all  that  is  embodied  in  the  assertion  of  the  self  by 
itself.  This  we  shall  find  to  be  existence  in  time  in  this 


INTRODUCTION 


25 


or  that  definite  act  or  mode,  and  a continuous  and 
identical  existence  through  all  the  varying  and  successive 
modes  of  consciousness  in  time.  The  variation  and 
succession  of  the  modes  of  consciousness  do  not  affect 
this  identical  reality,  and  no  more  need  the  suspension 
do,  even  though  the  suspension  of  the  mode  were  proved 
to  be  absolute,  and  not  simply  such  a reduction  of  degree 
as  merely  to  be  below  memory. 

In  our  experience  we  find  that  after  at  least  an  apparent 
absolute  suspension  of  consciousness,  the  I,  or  self,  on  the 
recovery  of  consciousness,  asserts  itself  to  be  identical 
with  the  I,  or  self,  of  the  consciousness  that  preceded  the 
suspension.  There  is  more  than  a logical  or  generic 
identity.  It  is  not  that  there  is  an  (<  I ® in  consciousness 
before  the  suspension  and  an  (<  I ® also  after  it ; but  these 
are  held  by  us  to  be  one  and  the  same.  The  temporary 
state  of  unconsciousness  is  even  attributed  to  this  iden- 
tical (<  I.  * It  is  supposed  to  have  passed  through  it.  It 
is  quite  clear,  accordingly,  that  the  being  of  the  *1,®  or 
self,  is  somehow  not  obliterated  by  the  state  of  uncon- 
sciousness through  which  it  passes. 

It  is  here  that  psychology  and  physiology  touch.  The 
bodily  organism,  living  and  sentient,  is  the  condition  and 
instrument  of  consciousness.  The  temporary  manifesta- 
tion of  consciousness  is  dependent  on  physical  conditions. 
Consciousness  may  be  said  to  animate  the  body;  and  the 
body  may  be  said  to  permit  the  manifestation  of  con- 
sciousness. But  there  is  the  deeper  element  of  the  Ego 
or  self  which  is  the  ground  of  the  whole  manifestations, 
however  conditioned  Through  a non-fulfilment  of  the 
physical  requirements,  these  manifestations  may  be  abso- 
lutely suspended,  or  at  least  they  may  sink  so  low  in 
degree,  as  to  appear  to  be  so;  they  may  subside  to  such 
an  extent  as  not  to  be  the  matter  of  subsequent  memory; 
but  the  Ego  may  still  survive,  potentially  if  not  actually 
existent;  capable  of  again  manifesting  similar  acts  of  con- 
sciousness, continuous  and  powerful  enough  to  assert  its 
existence  and  individuality,  in  varying  even  conflicting 
conscious  states,  and  to  triumph  over  the  suspension  of 
consciousness  itself. 

The  deductive  solution  which  has  been  given  of  this 
question  does  not  meet  the  point  at  issue.  It  is  said 
that  though  I am  not  always  conscious  of  any  special  act 


26 


INTRODUCTION 


or  state,  I am  yet  always  conscious:  for,  except  in  con- 
sciousness, there  is  no  Ego  or  self,  and  where  there  is 
consciousness  there  is  always  an  Ego.  This  self,  there- 
fore, exists  only  as  it  thinks,  and  it  thinks  always.  To 
say  that  the  Ego  does  not  exist  except  in  consciousness, 
and  to  say  that  it  exists  always,  is  to  say  either  that 
consciousness  always  exists,  or  to  say  that  when  conscious- 
ness does  not  exist,  the  Ego  yet  exists,  which  is  a simple 
contradiction,  or  to  say  that  consciousness  being  non- 
existent, the  Ego  neither  exists  nor  does  not  exist,  which 
is  equally  incompatible  with  its  existing  always.  In  fact, 
the  two  statements  are  irreconcilable.  If  the  Ego  does 
not  exist  except  in  consciousness,  it  can  only  exist  when 
consciousness  exists;  and  unless  the  continued  existence 
of  consciousness  is  guaranteed  to  us  somehow,  the  Ego 
cannot  be  said  to  exist  always.  If  the  statement  is  meant 
as  a definition  of  an  Ego,  the  conclusion  from  it  is  tolerably 
evident:  in  fact,  it  thus  becomes  an  identical  proposition. 
An  Ego  means  a conscious  Ego;  therefore  there  is  no 
Ego  except  a conscious  one.  Still,  it  does  not  follow  that 
there  is  always  a conscious  Ego,  or  that  an  Ego  always 
exists.  The  existence  of  the  Ego  in  time  at  all  is  still 
purely  hypothetical,  much  more  its  continuous  existence. 
Such  a definition  no  more  guarantees  the  reality  of  the 
Ego,  than  the  definition  of  a triangle  calls  it  into  actual 
existence. 

But  what  is  the  warrant  of  this  definition  ? Is  it  a 
description  of  the  actual  Ego  of  my  consciousness  ? Or 
is  it  a formula  simply  imposed  upon  actual  consciousness  ? 
It  cannot  be  accepted  as  the  former,  for  the  reason  that 
it  is  a mere  begging  of  the  question  raised  by  reflection 
regarding  the  character  of  the  actual  Ego  of  conscious- 
ness. The  question  is  — Is  it  true  or  not,  as  a matter  of 
fact,  that  the  Ego  which  I am  and  know  now  or  at  a 
given  time  survives  a suspension  of  consciousness  ? It 
seems  at  least  to  do  so,  and  not  to  be  merely  an  Ego 
which  reappears  after  the  suspension.  To  define  the 
actual  Ego  as  only  a conscious  Ego  is  to  beg  and  fore- 
close the  conclusion  to  be  discussed.  The  definition  thus 
assumes  the  character  of  a formula  imposed,  and  arbitra- 
rily imposed,  upon  our  actual  consciousness. 

Let  it  be  further  observed  that  this  doctrine  does  not 
even  guarantee  the  continuous  identity  of  the  Ego, 


INTRODUCTION 


through  varying  successive  states  of  consciousness.  It 
cannot  tell  me  that  the  Ego  of  a given  act  of  conscious- 
ness is  the  one  identical  me  of  a succeeding  act  of  con- 
sciousness. All  that  it  truly  implies  is  that  in  terms  of 
the  definition  an  Ego  is  correlative  with  a consciousness; 
but  it  does  not  guarantee  to  me  that  the  Ego  of  this 
definite  time  is  the  Ego  of  the  second  definite  time.  It 
might  be  construed  as  saying  no  to  this,  and  implying 
that  logical  identity  is  really  all.  But  it  does  not,  in  fact, 
touch  the  reality  of  time  at  all.  This  is  an  abstract  defi- 
nition of  an  Ego,  and  a hypothetical  one.  The  Ego  of  our 
actual  consciousness  may  possess  an  identity  of  a totally 
different  sort  from  that  contemplated  in  this  definition; 
and  therefore,  as  applied  to  consciousness  in  time,  it 
either  settles  nothing,  or  it  begs  the  point  at  issue. 

In  fact,  it  is  impossible  to  dispense  with  the  intuitions 
of  self-existence  and  continuous  self-existence  in  time, 
whatever  formula  we  state.  Our  existence  is  greatly 
wider  than  conciousness,  or  than  phenomenal  reality;  we 
are  and  we  persist  amid  the  varieties,  suspensions,  and 
depressions  of  consciousness  — a mysterious  power  of  self- 
hood and  unity,  which,  while  it  does  not  transcend  itself, 
transcends  at  least  its  own  states  of  being. 


V.  The  Guarantee  of  the  Principle. 

Now,  the  question  arises,  What  precisely  is  the  guaran- 
tee of  this  position, — the  cogito  ergo  sum  ? It  may  be 
said  simply  individual  reflection,  individual  test,  trial,  or 
experiment,  on  the  processes  of  knowledge  — analytic 
reflection  carried  to  its  utmost  limit.  But  it  may  be  urged 
this  is  wholly  an  individual  experience,  and  it  cannot 
ground  a general  rule  or  law  for  all  human  knowledge, 
far  less  for  knowledge  in  general.  It  is  true  that  this 
experiment  of  Descartes  is  an  individual  effort,  and  all 
true  philosophy  is  such.  This  is  essential  to  speculation 
in  any  form.  The  individual  thinker  must  realize  each 
truth  as  his  own  and  by  his  own  effort.  But  it  is  possible 
for  the  individual  proceeding  by  single  effort  to  find,  and 
to  unite  himself  with,  universal  truth.  Thus  only,  indeed, 
can  he  so  unite  himself.  It  is  the  quickened  intellect  in 


28 


INTRODUCTION 


living  quest  which  makes  the  conquest.  Doctrine  held  in 
any  other  way,  even  when  it  is  truth,  is  a sapless  ver- 
balism. Now,  what  is  the  law  or  ground  of  the  conviction 
that  my  being  conscious  is  impossible  unless  as  I am  ? 
Simply  the  principles  of  identity  and  non-contradiction, 
evidencing  themselves  in  a definite  form  and  application 
— asserting  their  strength,  but  as  yet  to  Descartes  only  in 
a hidden  way  — implicitly,  not  explicitly.  My  being  con- 
scious is  my  being  — my  being  for  the  moment.  If  I try 
to  think  my  being  conscious  without  also  thinking  my  being, 
I cannot.  And  as  these  are  thus  in  the  moment  of  time 
identical,  it  would  be  a contradiction  to  suppose  me  being 
conscious  without  me  being.  Thus  is  my  momentary  exist- 
ence secured  or  preserved  for  thought. 

Whether  I can  go  beyond  this  and  predicate  the  identity 
of  my  being  or  of  me  as  being  all  through  successive 
moments,  is  of  course  not  at  once  settled  by  this  position. 
But  it  is  not  foreclosed  by  it,  and  it  is  open  to  adduce  the 
proper  proof  of  the  continuous  identity,  if  this  can  be 
found. 

This,  as  seems  to  me,  is  what  is  implied  as  the  guar- 
antee of  the  first  principle  of  Descartes.  He  has  not 
himself,  however,  developed  it  in  this  way,  for  the  rea- 
son chiefly  that  he  did  not  recognize  the  principle  of 
Non-Contradiction  as  regulating  immediate  inference. 
There  is  a little  noticed  but  significant  passage  in  which 
he  touches  on  this  law,  in  a letter  to  Clerselier.  Refer- 
ring to  that  which  we  ought  to  take  for  the  first  prin- 
ciple, he  says:  ® The  word  principle  may  be  taken  in 
diverse  senses,  and  it  is  one  thing  to  seek  a common 
notion  which  is  so  clear  and  so  general  that  it  may  serve 
as  a principle  to  prove  the  existence  of  all  beings,  the 
entia  which  one  will  afterward  know;  and  it  is  another 
thing  to  seek  a being,  the  existence  of  which  is  more 
known  to  us  than  that  of  any  others,  so  that  it  may 
serve  us  as  principle  for  knowing  them.  In  the  first 
sense  it  may  be  said  that  it  is  impossible  for  the  same 
thing  at  once  to  be  and  not  to  be  is  a principle,  and 
that  it  may  serve  generally,  not  properly  to  make  known 
the  existence  of  anything,  but  only  to  cause  that  when 
one  knows  it  one  confirms  the  truth  of  it  by  such  a 
reasoning,  — It  is  impossible  that  what  is  should  not 

be;  BUT  I KNOW  THAT  SUCH  A THING  IS;  HENCE  I KNOW 


INTRODUCTION 


29 


THAT  IT  IS  IMPOSSIBLE  IT  SHOULD  NOT  BE.  This  is  of 

little  importance,  and  does  not  make  us  wiser.  In  the 
other  sense,  the  first  principle  is  that  our  soul  exists, 
because  there  is  nothing  the  existence  of  which  is  more 
known  to  us.  I add  also  that  it  is  not  a condition  which 
we  ought  to  require  of  the  first  principle,  that  of  being 
such  that  all  other  propositions  may  be  reduced  to  and 
proved  by  it;  it  is  enough  that  it  serve  to  discover  sev- 
eral of  them,  and  that  there  is  no  other  upon  which  it 
depends,  or  which  we  can  find  before  it.  For  it  may  be 
that  there  is  not  any  principle  in  the  world  to  which 
alone  all  things  can  be  reduced;  and  the  way  in  which 
people  reduce  other  propositions  to  this,  — impossibile  est 
idem  simul  esse  et  non  esse, — is  superfluous  and  of  no 
use;  whereas  it  is  with  very  great  utility  that  one  com- 
mences to  be  assured  of  the  existence  of  God,  and 
afterward  of  that  of  all  creatures,  by  the  consideration 

OF  HIS  OWN  PROPER  EXISTENCE. ® 

This  shows,  on  the  whole,  that  Descartes  had  not  fully 
thought  out  his  own  position.  He  had  most  certainly 
well  appreciated  the  true  scope  of  the  principle  of  non- 
contradiction, as  incapable  of  yielding  a single  fact  or 
new  notion.  In  this  he  showed  himself  greatly  in  advance 
of  many  nineteenth-century  philosophers.  And  he  showed 
also  his  thorough  apprehension  of  the  fact  that  the  true 
principle  of  a constructive  philosophy  lies  not  in  mere 
identity,  or  in  the  preservation  of  the  consistency  of  a 
thought  with  itself,  but  in  its  affording  the  ground  of  new 
truths.  His  view  is,  that  ere  the  principle  of  non-contra- 
diction can  come  into  exercise  at  all,  something  must  be 
known.  And  any  one  who  really  puts  meaning  into  words 
cannot  suppose  for  a moment  anything  else.  All  this 
should  be  fully  and  generously  recognized  as  evidence  of 
a thoroughly  far-seeing  philosophical  vision.  At  the  same 
time,  he  does  not  see  the  negative  or  preservative  value 
of  the  principle  — and  the  need  of  it  as  a guard  for  the 
fact  of  self-consciousness  as  being  self-existence  for  the 
moment,  which  he  finds  in  experience.  It  is  this  prin- 
ciple alone  which,  supervening  on  the  intuition,  makes  it 
definite  or  limited  — a positive  — shut  out  from  the  very 
possibility  of  being  identified  with  any  opposite  or  neg- 
ative, although  this  may  be  implied  in  its  very  con- 
ception. 


3° 


INTRODUCTION 


The  first  truth  of  Descartes  — being  conscious,  I am  — 
is  thus  not  properly  described  as,  in  the  first  instance,  a 
universal  in  knowledge.  It  is  a definite  particular  or  in- 
dividual fact,  guaranteed  by  its  necessity,  by  the  impos- 
sibility of  transcending  definite  limits,  and  in  this  necessity, 
or  through  the  consciousness  of  it,  is  the  universality 
connected  with  the  fact  revealed.  But  for  the  conscious 
necessity,  I could  never  either  know  the  universality,  or 
guarantee  to  myself  this  universality,  for  I have  as  yet 
but  knowledge  of  one  actual  case,  whatever  extension 
my  conception  may  assume  in  and  through  it;  and  but 
for  the  necessity,  I could  never  assert  the  universality 

— BEING  CONSCIOUS,  I AM;  BEING  CONSCIOUS,  EACH  IS. 

Descartes  expressly  anticipated  this  misapprehension, 
and  strove  to  correct  it.  Nothing  can  be  more  explicit 
than  his  view  that  the  necessity  is  first,  and  that  this  is,  as 
it  can  only  be,  the  guarantee  of  the  universality.  If  a 
universal,  it  must  be  a mere  abstract  universal  to  begin 
with,  in  which  case  it  can  be  applied  neither  to  my  ex- 
istence nor  to  my  existence  at  a given  time.  It  must  be 
a universal  too,  surreptitiously  obtained,  for  it  is  a uni- 
versal of  thought  and  being  which  I have  never  known 
or  consciously  realized  in  any  individual  case.  And  if  I 
have  not  done  this,  I cannot  know  it  to  be  applicable  to 
any  case,  far  less  to  all  cases.  It  is  thus  an  empty  and 
illegitimate  abstraction,  which  can  tell  me  nothing,  be- 
cause it  wholly  transcends  any  consciousness. 

Further,  the  conviction  which  we  get  of  the  necessary 
connection  between  self-consciousness  and-  self-existence 
is  not  due  to  the  knowledge  of  the  general  formulae 
of  identity  and  non-contradiction  — viz,  A is  A,  and 
A = not-A  = O.  But,  on  the  other  hand,  the  necessity  of 
those  formulae  is  realized  by  us  in  the  definite  instance 
itself.  This  is  as  true  and  certain  to  us  as  is  the  general 
formula  or  law  which  it  exemplifies.  Nay,  we  can  only 
in  the  instance  find  for  ourselves  or  test  the  necessity  of 
the  formula  itself.  We  do  not  thus  add  to  the  certainty 
of  our  conviction  of  the  truth  in  the  particular  instance 
by  stating  the  general  formula;  we  only  draw  out,  as  it 
were,  of  the  particular  case,  and  then  describe  that  most 
general  form  on  which  reflection  shows  us  this  already 
perfect  conviction  rests.  It  is,  therefore,  idlfe  to  talk  of 
evolving  the  particular  truth  from  the  universal  formula; 


INTRODUCTION 


31 


for  the  latter  is  nothing  to  us  until  it  is  found  exempli- 
fied in  the  particular  instance.  Nor  is  it  of  any  greater 
relevancy  to  say  that  self-consciousness  is  deduced  from 
consciousness  in  general  or  the  idea  of  consciousness ; for, 
on  exactly  the  same  principle,  we  know  nothing  of  such 
a general  consciousness  unless  as  exemplified  in  this  pri- 
mary self-consciousness.  This  is  as  early  in  thought  and 
in  time  as  the  idea  of  consciousness  in  general,  or  of  the 
Ego  in  general,  or  an  infinite  self-consciousness,  what- 
ever such  an  ambiguous  phrase  may,  according  to  the 
requirements  of  an  argument,  be  twisted  to  mean. 

And  this  consideration  should  be  fatal  to  the  view  or 
representation  that  there  is  here  a <(  determination  ” by 
the  thinker,  or  by  (<  thought ® which,  by  the  way,  seems 
capable  of  dispensing  with  a thinker  altogether.  (<To 
determine  * is  a very  definite  logical  phrase,  which  has 
and  can  have  but  one  clear  meaning.  The  mind  deter- 
mines an  object  when  it  classifies  the  materials  of  sense 
and  inward  experience;  and  when,  descending  from  higher 
genera,  it  evolves  species  and  individuals,  through  knowl- 
edge of  differences  extraneous  to  the  genera  themselves. 
Whatever  be  implied  in  these  processes,  it  is  clear  at 
least  that  <(  determination  w is  a thoroughly  conscious  pro- 
cess; and  it  is  further  a secondary  or  reflective  process. 
When  we  refer  any  given  object  to  a class,  and  thus 
fix  or  determine  it  for  what  it  is,  we  suppose  the  pos- 
session by  us  of  a prior  knowledge  — knowledge  of  a class 
constituted  and  represented  by  objects  — and  knowledge 
too,  of  this  or  that  object  of  thought,  which  we  now  refer 
to  the  class.  In  this  sense  it  is  quite  clear  that  Descartes 
could  not  be  supposed  <(  to  determine  * his  experience, 
either  as  to  the  conscious  act,  or  as  to  the  limits  under 
which  it  was  conceivable  by  him,  for  his  procedure  was 
initiative,  and  he  is  not  gratuitously  to  be  supposed  in 
conscious  possession  of  knowledge  before  the  single  con- 
scious act  in  which  knowledge  is  for  the  first  time  realized. 
Besides,  determination  implies  a consciousness  of  gen- 
erality— in  this  case  even  universality  — of  law  and  limit 
of  which  he  could  not  possibly  be  conscious,  until  he 
became  aware  of  them  in  the  very  act  of  his  experimen- 
tal reflection.  Even  the  most  general  form  of  determin- 
ation— that  of  regarding  an  object  as  such  — can  arise 
into  consciousness  only  reflectively  through  the  first 


32 


INTRODUCTION 


experience  of  this  or  that  object  in  which  the  notion  of 
object  is  at  once  revealed  and  emphasized.  Nay,  if,  ac- 
cording to  a possible  but  disputable  interpretation  of 
Kant,  perception  being  (<  blind  ® and  conception  <(  empty, ® 
the  former  is  not  a species  of  knowledge  at  all,  and  has 
no  separate  object:  and  if  conception  be  equally 

void  of  object,  and  yet  always  needed  to  make 
even  an  object  of  knowledge,  determination  is  an 
absurdity;  for  the  understanding  or  mind  as  exercis- 
ing this  function  must  in  this  case  be  supposed 
able  to  determine  or  clothe  in  category  that  which 
is  as  yet  not  an  object  of  consciousness  at  all.  It  must 
be  able  to  act,  though  it  is  assumed  as  entirely  empty 
and  incapable  of  filling  itself  with  content.  There  are 
but  two  alternatives  here  — either  the  so-called  (<  mani- 
fold of  sensation  ® is  not  matter  of  consciousness,  or  it 
is.  If  the  former,  then  the  empty  and  uninformed  un- 
derstanding can  make  an  object  of  what  is  not  in  any 
way  supplied  to  it  — it  can  combine  into  unity  what  is 
beyond  consciousness  itself ; or  if  this  (<  manifold  * be  in 
consciousness  by  itself,  it  can  be  so  without  being  known, 
— consciousness  of  the  manifold  may  exist  without  knowl- 
edge of  the  manifold  — that  is,  without  knowledge  of  its 
object.  We  have  thus  a complexus  of  absurdity.  The 
understanding  can  make  a synthesis  of  a <(  manifold  }>  which 
is  never  within  its  ken ; and  it  can  be  conscious  of  a uni- 
versal which,  as  the  cofactor  of  the  unconstituted  ob- 
ject, is  not  yet  in  knowledge.  Nothing  need  be  said  of 
the  absurdity  of  describing  (<  the  manifold  ® of  perception 
when  perception  has  no  distinctive  object  at  all,  but  re- 
ceives its  object  from  conception.  And  the  <(  manifold  ® 
of  perception,  while  it  supposes  always  a unity  and  a 
series  of  points  at  least,  is  about  the  most  inapplicable 
expression  which  it  is  possible  to  apply  to  the  sensations 
of  taste,  odor,  sound,  and  tactual  feeling.  In  these,  as 
sensations,  there  is  no  manifold;  each  is  an  indivisible 
attribute  or  unity.  These  may,  no  doubt,  constitute 
a manifold  through  time  and  succession;  but  they  can 
do  so  only  on  condition  of  being  separately  appre- 
hended in  time  as  objects  or  points.  The  manifold  of 
sense  even  cannot  be  a manifold  of  non-entities  or  un- 
conscious elements.  But  the  problem  of  analyzing  object 
or  thing  is  an  impossible  one  from  the  first.  Of  what  is 


INTRODUCTION 


33 


ultimately  an  object  for  consciousness,  we  cannot  state 
the  elements,  without  being  conscious  of  each  element 
as  an  object.  If  we  are  not  conscious  of  each  element  as 
an  object  by  itself,  as  distinguished  from  each  other 
element  which  enters  into  the  object,  we  cannot  know 
what  the  elements  are  which  make  up  any  object  of  con- 
sciousness. We  have  not  even  consciousness  or  knowl- 
edge at  all.  We  cannot  specify  either  the  mutual  rela- 
tions or  the  mutual  functions  of  the  elements.  If  we  are 
conscious  of  each  element  by  itself  and  of  its  functions, 
we  have  an  object  of  knowledge,  prior  to  the  constitu- 
tion of  the  object  of  knowledge  — the  only  object  sup- 
posed possible.  “Thing”  or  “object”  or  “being”  is  ul- 
timately unanalyzable  by  us,  seeing  that  our  instrument 
of  analysis  is  itself  only  possible  by  cognizing  thing  or 
being  in  some  form, — by  bringing  it  to  the  analysis. 
What  things  are  we  can  tell, — what  sorts  of  things  as 
they  stand  in  different  relations  to  each  other,  and  to 
us;  but  the  ground  of  the  possibility  of  this  is  thing  or 
object  itself,  given  in  inseparable  correlation  with  the 
act  of  consciousness. 

The  truth  is  that  this  theory  of  determination  proceeds 
on  the  confusion  of  two  kinds  of  judgments  which  are 
wholly  distinct  in  character,  the  logical  and  psycholog- 
ical. The  logical  judgment  always  supposes  two  ideas  of 
objects  known  by  us.  It  comes  into  play  only  after  ap- 
prehension of  qualities,  and  is  simply  an  application  of 
classification  or  attribution.  The  subject  of  the  judg- 
ment is  thus  determined  as  belonging  to  a class,  or  as 
possessing  an  attribute;  but  subject,  class,  and  attribute 
are  already  in  the  mind  or  consciousness;  only  they  are 
as  yet  neither  joined  nor  disjoined.  This  kind  of  judg- 
ment is  a secondary  and  derivative  process,  and  has  noth- 
ing to  do  with  the  primitive  acts  of  knowledge.  The 
psychological  or  metaphysical  judgment,  if  the  name  be 
retained,  with  which  knowledge  begins,  and  without 
which  the  logical  judgment  is  impossible  — does  not  sup- 
pose a previous  knowledge  of  the  terms  to  be  united. 
It  is  manifested  in  self-consciousness  and  in  perception. 
In  it  knowledge  and  affirmation  of  the  present  and  mo- 
mentary reality  are  identical.  As  I am  conscious  of 
feeling,  so  I am  affirming  the  reality  of  my  consciousness 
or  existence.  As  I touch  extension,  so  I affirm  the  reality 
3 


34 


INTRODUCTION 


of  the  object  touched.  In  no  other  way  can  I reach  the 
reality  either  of  self  or  not-self.  To  suppose  that  I reach 
it  by  comparing  the  notions  of  self  and  existence,  or  of 
extension  and  existence  — is  to  suppose  an  absolutely  ab- 
stract or  general  knowledge  of  me  and  being,  in  the  first 
instance,  that  I may  know,  in  the  second  instance, 
whether  I can  join  them  together,  and  they  therefore 
exist.  But  this  supposes  that  I can  have  this  abstract 
knowledge  by  itself,  apart  from  individual  realization. 
It  supposes  also  that  I can  have  this  before  I know  its 
embodiment  in  the  concrete  at  all,  and  finally  it  fails  to 
give  me  the  knowledge  I seek  — for  it  only,  at  the 
utmost,  could  tell  me  that  the  ideas  of  me  and  existence 
are  not  incongruous  or  contradictory  — whereas  what  I 
wish  to  know  is  whether  I actually  am.  On  such  a doc- 
trine my  existing  must  mean  merely  an  ideal  compati- 
bility. 

In  a word,  determination  of  things  by  thought,  as  it  is 
called,  supposes  a system  of  thought  or  consciousness. 
It  supposes  the  thinker  to  be  in  possession  of  notions 
and  principles,  and  to  be  consciously  in  possession  of  them. 
Otherwise  it  is  a blind  and  unconscious  determination 
done  for  the  thinker,  and  not  by  him,  and  the  thinker 
does  not  know  at  all.  But  if  the  thinker  is  already  in 
possession  of  such  a knowledge,  we  have  not  explained 
the  origin  of  knowledge  or  experience ; we  have  only  re- 
ferred it  to  a pre-existing  system  of  knowledge  in  con- 
sciousness. If,  therefore,  we  are  to  show  how  knowledge 
rises  up  for  the  first  time,  we  must  look  to  what  is  before 
even  this  system.  But  before  the  general  or  generalized 
— as  an  abstraction  — we  have  only  the  concrete  individ- 
ual instance, — the  act  of  consciousness  in  this  or  that 
case.  Either,  therefore,  we  beg  a system  of  knowledge, 
or  we  do  not  know  at  all,  or  we  know  the  individual  as 
embodying  the  general  or  universal  for  the  first  time. 

The  intuition  of  self  and  its  modes  no  doubt  involves 
a great  many  elements  or  notions,  not  obvious  at  first 
sight.  It  involves  unity,  individuality,  substance,  relation ; 
it  involves  identity,  and  difference  or  discrimination  of 
subject  and  object,  of  self  and  state.  These  notions  or 
elements  analytical  reflection  will  explicitly  evolve  from 
the  fact,  as  its  essential  factors.  Some  are  disposed  to 
call  these  presuppositions.  I have  no  desire  to  quarrel 


INTRODUCTION 


35 


with  the  word.  They  are  presuppositions  in  the  sense  of 
logical  concomitance,  or  correlation.  The  fact  or  real- 
ity embodies  them;  they  are  realized  in  the  fact.  The 
fact  is,  if  you  choose,  reason  realized.  But  they  are 
not  presuppositions,  in  the  sense  of  grounds  of  evolu- 
tion of  the  fact  in  which  we  find  them.  They  are  in  it, 
and  elements  of  it ; but  the  fact  is  as  necessary  to  their 
realization  and  known  existence  as  they  are  to  it.  You 
cannot  take  these  by  themselves,  abstract  them,  set  them 
apart,  and  evolve  this  or  that  individuality  out  of  them. 
You  cannot  deduce  the  reality  or  individuality  of  an  Ego 
from  them  — the  Ego  I find  in  experience  or  conscious- 
ness— because  this  very  reality  is  necessary  to  their  reali- 
zation or  being  in  thought  at  all.  There  is  no  relation 
or  subordination  here.  It  is  co-ordination,  or  better,  the 
correlation  of  fact  and  form, — of  being  and  law  of 
being. 

We  can  thus  also  detect  how  much,  or  rather  how 
little,  truth  there  is  in  current  Hegelian  representations 
of  the  first  principle  and  position  of  Descartes  in  philos- 
ophy, when  we  are  told  that  (<  Descartes  is  the  founder 
of  a new  epoch  in  philosophy  because  he  enunciated  the 
postulate  of  an  entire  removal  of  presupposition.  This 
absolute  protest  maintained  by  Descartes  against  the 
acceptance  of  anything  for  true,  because  it  is  so  given 
to  us,  or  so  found  by  us,  and  not  something  determined 
and  established  by  thought,  becomes  thenceforward  the 
fundamental  principle  of  the  moderns.  ® (<An  entire 
removal  of  presupposition,  ® if  by  that  be  meant  of  postu- 
late, is  not  possible  on  any  system  of  philosophy.  No 
presuppositionless  system  can  be  stated  in  this  sense, 
without  glaring  inconsistency.  It  is  ab  initio  suicidal.  I 
must  be  there  to  think,  that  is,  I must  be  conscious 
where  there  is  the  possibility  of  either  truth  or  error; 
and  the  intelligible  system  developed  must  have  an  unde- 
duced basis  in  my  consciousness,  guaranteed  by  that 
consciousness.  And  in  regard  to  the  Hegelian  or  most 
pretentious  attempt  of  this  sort,  it  could  readily  be  shown 
that  the  method  or  dialectic  is  in  no  way  contained  in 
the  basis, — or  is  even  the  native  law  of  the  deduction. 
As  such  it  is  borrowed,  not  deduced.  Definite  thought 
is  always  necessarily  postulated ; otherwise  there  is  neither 
affirmation  nor  negation.  This  Descartes  accepted ; and  on 


36 


INTRODUCTION 


this  necessary  assumption,  in  no  way  arbitrary,  but  self- 
guaranteeing, his  philosophy  was  based. 

As  to  the  phrase,  <(  something  determined  and  estab- 
lished by  thought, » this  is  as  inappropriate  an  expression 
as  could  well  be  imagined.  What  is  the  (<  thought  ® 
which  determines  or  establishes  things  for  us  ? Is  it 
thought  ® divorced  from  any  consciousness  ? Is  it 
thought  realized  by  me  in  and  through  my  consciousness  ? 
It  is  apparently  not  what  is  found  or  given,  but  what 
determines  or  establishes.  But  is  this  a thing  by  itself, 
this  thought, — is  it  a power  in  the  universe  working 
alone  and  by  itself  ? Apparently  so.  If  thought  deter- 
mines and  establishes  things  it  is  a very  definite  and  prac- 
tical power.  But  then  do  I,  or  can  I,  know  this  thought 
which  is  obviously  superior  to  me  and  the  first  act  of 
self-consciousness  ? How  can  I speak  of  thought  at  all 
as  a determining  power  for  me,  when  as  yet  I am  neither 
conscious  nor  existent  ? If  there  were  a system  of  knowl- 
edge above  knowledge,  known  to  me  — or  a system  of 
thought  above  my  thought,  thought  by  me  — or  a con- 
sciousness above  my  consciousness,  of  which,  or  in  which, 
I was  conscious  before  my  consciousness, — then  I could 
accept  the  determination  by  thought  of  all  truth  for  me. 
But  as  it  is,  until  I can  reconcile  to  the  ordinary  con- 
ditions of  intelligibility  this  fallacy  of  doubling  thought 
or  knowledge,  I must  give  up  the  experiment  as  a viola- 
tion of  good  sense  and  reason.  Determination  by 
thought  either  means  that  I am  already  in  conscious  pos- 
session of  knowledge  (in  which  case  I presuppose  knowl- 
edge to  account  for  knowledge),  or  it  means  that 
something  called  thought,  which  is  not  yet  either  me  or 
my  consciousness,  or  even  consciousness  at  all,  deter- 
mines me  and  my  consciousness,  in  which  case  I cannot 
know  anything  of  this  process  of  determination,  for  ex 
hypothesi  I neither  am  nor  am  conscious  until  I am 
determined  to  be  so.  To  know  or  be  consciously  deter- 
mined by  this  thought,  I must  be  in  it  actually  and 
consciously  from  the  first,  in  which  case  I know  before 
I know,  and  I am  before  I am,  or  I must  be  in  it 
potentially  from  the  first  — that  is,  unconsciously,  in 
which  case  I am  able  to  keep  up  all  through  the  process 
of  determination  a continuity  of  being  between  uncon- 
sciousness and  consciousness,  and  to  retain  a memory 


INTRODUCTION 


37 


of  that  which  I never  consciously  knew.  To  connect 
myself  and  my  consciousness  in  this  way  with  such  a 
determining  thought,  or  something,  is  a simple  impos- 
sibility. 

The  fallacy  in  all  this  lies  in  the  suggestion  of  the  phrase 
<(to  determine.®  This  is  ambiguous,  or  rather  it  has  a 
connotation  which  is  fallacious,  or  helps  fallacious  thought. 
To  determine  is  ultimately  to  conceive,  or  limit  by  con- 
ception— i.  e.,  to  attach  a predicate  to  a subject.  But 
to  determine  may  easily  be  taken  to  mean  fixing  as  exist- 
ent— not  merely  as  a possible  object  of  experience,  but 
as  a real  or  actual  object.  And  in  this  sense  it  is  con- 
stantly used  — especially  at  a pinch  when  it  is  necessary 
to  identify  the  ideal  possibility  of  an  object  of  thought 
with  its  reality.  To  assert  existence  of  a subject,  and  to 
inclose  it  in  a predicate,  are  totally  different  operations. 
As  to  object  — we  can  ideally  construct  an  object  of 
knowledge  with  all  the  determinations  and  relations 
necessary.  We  can  think  it  in  time  and  space,  and  under 
category  — as  quality,  or  effect,  — but  this  does  not  give 
us  existence.  This,  considered  in  relation  to  the  notion, 
is  a synthetic  attribute ; and  the  so-called  constitution  of 
the  object;  all  its  necessary  conditions  being  fulfilled  in 
thought,  gives  us  no  more  than  a purely  ideal  object. 
Existence  we  get  and  can  get  only  through  intuition.  The 
subject  is  some  thing  — some  being  — ere  we  determine  it 
by  predicates.  If  it  is  ever  to  be  real,  it  is  already  real. 
No  subsequent  predication  can  make  it  so.  The  truth  is, 
that  being  is  not  a proper  predicate  at  all.  It  is  but  the 
subject  — perceived  or  conceived  — and  is  thus,  as  real  or 
ideal,  the  prerequisite  of  all  predication.  The  Schoolmen 
were  right  in  making  being  transcendent  — thafiis,  some- 
thing not  included  in  the  predicaments  at  all,  but  the 
condition  of  predication  itself.  This,  too,  is  virtually  the 
view  of  Kant,  as  shown  in  his  dealing  with  the  Ontolog- 
ical argument. 

To  say  that  I determine  knowledge  by  means  of  forms 
of  intuition,  — as  space  and  time,— and  by  category,  or  by 
both,  is  thus  to  reverse  the  order  of  knowledge.  Be- 
sides, it  is  utterly  impossible  logically  to  defend  this  doc- 
trine without  maintaining  that  category,  or  the  universal 
in  thought,  or  thought  per  se,  is  truly  knowledge, — a 
doctrine  which  in  words  is  denied  by  the  upholders  of 


3« 


INTRODUCTION 


a priori  determination,  but  in  reality  constantly  proceeded 
upon  by  them.  But  the  spontaneous  and  intuitive  act  of 
knowledge  necessarily  precedes  the  reflective  and  formu- 
lating. Direct  apprehension  is  the  ground  of  self-evi- 
dence ; testing  by  reflection  proves  space,  time,  and 
category  to  be  necessary;  and,  if  necessary,  universal  in 
our  knowledge. 

Self-evidencing  reality,  guarded  by  the  principles  of 
identity  and  non-contradiction,  is  thus  the  ultimate  result 
of  the  Cartesian  method,  and  the  starting-point  of  specu- 
lative philosophy.  The  basis  proved  a narrow  one;  and 
the  deductive  system  of  propositions  which  he  grounded 
on  it  did  not  attain  throughout  even  a logical  consistency, 
far  less  a real  truth.  But  this  does  not  affect  the  value  of 
his  method,  which  is  twofold  — the  intuition  of  the  reality 
of  self  as  given  in  consciousness,  and  the  limit  set  to 
doubt  by  the  principle  of  non-contradiction. 

The  most  essential  and  perhaps  the  most  valuable 
feature  in  the  philosophy  of  Descartes  is  thus  seen  to  be 
the  affirmation  involved  in  the  cogito  ergo  sum  of  the 
spontaneity  of  the  primary  act  of  knowledge.  I am  con- 
scious is  to  me  the  first  — the  beginning  alike  of  knowl- 
edge and  being;  and  I can  go  no  higher,  in  the  way  of 
primary  direct  act.  Whatever  I may  subsequently  know 
depends  on  this  — the  world,  other  conscious  beings,  or 
God  himself.  This  is  to  me  the  revelation  of  being,  and 
the  ground  of  knowledge.  This  was  to  found  knowledge 
on  its  true  basis  — conscious  experience,  and  conscious 
experience  as  in  this  or  that  definite  form  — of  feeling, 
perceiving,  imagining,  willing.  Even  though  Descartes 
had  gone  no  further  than  this,  he  inaugurated  a method, 
an  organon  of  philosophy,  which,  if  it  be  abandoned  by 
the  speculative  thinker,  must  leave  him  open  to  the 
vagaries  of  abstraction,  to  the  mythical  creation  of  (<  pure 
thought, w — i.  e.,  of  reasoning  divorced  from  experience. 
The  least  evil  of  this  process  is  that  it  is  a travesty  of 
reasoning  itself  — that  conclusions  are  attached  to  prem- 
ises, and  not  drawn  from  them  — and  the  whole  process 
is  an  illegitimate  personification  of  abstractions.  Descartes 
properly  laid  down  the  principle  that  knowledge  springs 
out  of  a definite  act  of  a conscious  being,  self  revealed 
in  the  conscious  act.  He  did  not  stop  to  analyze  the 
whole  elements  of  this  act,  or  to  set  forth  the  conditions 


INTRODUCTION 


39 


of  its  possibility,  or  to  analyze  the  conditions  of  the  thing 
or  (<  object”  of  which  the  self-conscious  being  takes  cog- 
nizance, or  to  consider  how  the  conscious  act  has  arisen, 
— whether  out  of  the  indeterminate,  or  out  of  determinate 
conditions.  He  had  neither  full  analysis  nor  hypothesis 
on  these  points;  and  as  to  the  last,  he  was  right,  for  he 
saw  clearly  that  conscious  experience  in  a given  mode 
must  be,  ere  any  of  these  questions  can  even  be  con- 
ceived or  determined.  And  had  some  of  those  who  have 
since  followed  out  these  lines  of  inquiry,  fully  appreciated 
and  truly  kept  in  view  the  Cartesian  position  of  a posi- 
tive experiential  act  as  the  necessary  basis  of  all  knowl- 
edge by  us,  they  would  have  kept  their  analysis  of  its 
conditions  closer  to  the  facts,  and  they  would  have  seen 
also  that  no  starting-point  in  a so-called  (<  universal,  ® or 
in  thought  above  this  conscious  experience,  is  at  all  pos- 
sible ; that  knowledge  by  <(  determination  ” is  a mere  dream 
and  an  illegitimate  doubling  of  knowledge  or  conscious- 
ness; that  at  the  utmost,  in  this  respect,  knowledge  never 
can  rise  beyond  mere  correlation  of  particular  and  uni- 
versal; and  that,  both  in  philosophy  and  in  science, 
knowledge  grows  and  is  consolidated,  not  through  <(  re- 
thinking ” or  <(  reasoning  out  ” of  experience,  but  through 
a patient  study  of  the  conditions  of  experience  itself,  in 
succession  and  coexistence  — a study  in  which  the  indi- 
viduality of  human  life  and  effort  matches  itself  in  but 
a feeble,  yet  not  unsuccessful  way,  against  the  infinity 
of  time  and  space.  This,  too,  would  have  prevented  the 
mistake  of  supposing  that  the  only  critical,  analytic,  and 
reflective,  in  a word,  philosophical,  thought  is  that  which 
accepts  or  finds  a formula,  within  which  our  experience 
must  be  compressed  or  discarded  as  unreal,  with  the  risk, 
actually  incurred,  of  sacrificing  what  is  most  vital  in  that 
experience. 


VI.  The  Criterion  of  Truth. 

Descartes  sought  to  evolve  a criterion  of  truth  from 
the  first  indubitable  position.  This  was  the  clearness  and 
distinctness  of  knowledge.  He  has  defined  this  test  in 
the  following  words : I call  that  clear  which  is  present 

and  manifest  to  the  mind  giving  attention  to  it,  just  as 


40 


INTRODUCTION 


we  are  said  clearly  to  see  objects  when,  being  present  to 
the  eye  looking  on,  they  stimulate  it  with  sufficient  force, 
and  it  is  disposed  to  regard  them ; but  the  distinct  is  that 
which  is  so  precise  and  different  from  all  other  objects  as 
to  comprehend  in  itself  only  what  is  clear. w 

This  test  is  evidently  derived  from  reflection  on  intu- 
itional knowledge.  It  is  involved  in  his  first  truth,  but  it 
is  not  the  sole  guarantee  of  that  truth;  for  this,  as  we 
have  seen,  is  ultimately  non-contradiction.  His  first  truth 
could  hardly  be  taken  as  affording  the  strict  conditions  of 
all  truth,  for  in  this  case  truth  would  need  to  be  both 
direct  and  necessary.  Certain  principles  might  be  so,  but 
even  in  respect  of  them,  it  would  exclude  the  idea  of 
derivation  and  subordination,  and  lead  to  the  idea  of 
independent  reality  and  guarantee.  And  the  test  would 
exclude  all  derivative  knowledge,  even  when  it  was  hypo- 
thetically necessary.  Further,  if  it  were  set  up  as  the 
absolute  standard  of  truth,  contingent  or  probable  truth 
would  be  altogether  excluded  from  the  name.  Descartes 
thus  contented  himself  with  the  general  statement  of 
clearness  and  distinctness;  and  his  first  truth  is  accepted 
in  its  fullness  as  simply  the  basis  of  deduction  — as  the 
ground  whence  he  may  proceed  to  build  up  a philosophy 
of  God  and  the  material  non- Ego. 

The  criterion  is,  however,  ambiguous  in  its  applications. 
When  it  is  said  that  whatever  we  clearly  and  distinctly 
conceive  is  true,  we  may  mean  that  it  is  possible  — i.  e., 
an  ideal  possibility;  or  we  may  mean  that  it  is  real  — i.  e ., 
a matter  of  fact  or  existence.  And  Descartes  has  not 
always  carefully  distinguished  those  senses  of  the  word 
true  — as,  for  example,  in  his  proof  of  the  being  of  Deity 
from  the  notion.  If  we  take  the  formula  in  the  latter 
sense,  we  are  led  to  identify  truth  with  notional  reality 
and  its  relations  — thought  with  being. 

The  best  criticism  of  the  Cartesian  criterion  is  unques- 
tionably that  given  by  Leibnitz  in  his  famous  paper  — 
« Meditationes  de  Cognitione , Veritate,  et  Ideis . w He  indi- 
cates with  singular  felicity  the  various  grades  of  our 
conceptual  knowledge.  Cognition  is  obscure,  when  the 
object  is  not  distinguished  from  other  objects  or  the  objects 
around  it.  Here  the  object  is  a mere  something  — not 
nothing;  but  what  it  precisely  is,  either  in  its  own  class 
of  things  or  as  contrasted  with  other  things,  we  do  not 


INTRODUCTION 


4i 


apprehend.  Cognition,  again,  is  clear,  when  we  are  able 
definitely  to  comprehend  the  object  as  in  contradistinction 
from  others.  Clear  cognition  is  further  divided  into  Con- 
fused and  Distinct.  It  is  confused  when  we  are  unable 
to  enumerate  the  marks  or  characters  by  which  the  object 
is  discriminated  from  other  objects,  while  it  yet  possesses 
such  marks.  Thus  we  can  distinguish  colors,  odors, 
tastes,  from  each  other;  yet  we  cannot  specify  the  marks 
by  which  we  do  so.  At  the  same  time  such  marks  must 
exist,  seeing  the  objects  are  resolvable  into  their  respect- 
ive causes.  Our  knowledge,  again,  is  distinct  when  we 
can  specify  the  discriminating  marks,  as  the  assayers  in 
dealing  with  gold;  and  as  we  can  do  in  the  case  of  num- 
ber, magnitude,  figure.  But  distinct  knowledge  may  still 
further  be  Inadequate  or  Adequate.  It  is  inadequate 
when  the  discriminating  marks  are  not  analyzed  or  resolved 
into  more  elementary  notions,  being  sometimes  clearly 
and  sometimes  confusedly  thought  — as  for  example,  the 
weight  and  color  of  gold.  Knowledge,  again,  is  adequate 
when  the  marks  in  our  distinct  cognition  are  themselves 
distinctly  thought  — that  is,  carried  back  by  analysis  to 
an  end  or  termination.  Whether  any  perfect  example 
of  this  exists  is,  in  the  view  of  Leibnitz,  doubtful.  Num- 
ber is  the  nearest  approach  to  it.  Then  there  is  the 
distinction  of  the  Blind  or  Symbolical  and  the  Intuitive 
in  cognition  — the  former  being  the  potentiality  of  con- 
ception which  lies  in  terms ; the  latter  being  the  clear  and 
distinct  or  individual  picture  of  each  mark  so  lying  unde- 
veloped. When  cognition  is  at  once  adequate  and  intui- 
tive, it  is  Perfect.  But  Leibnitz  here  at  least  hesitates 
to  say  whether  such  can  be  realized.  To  distinct  cognition 
there  attaches  Nominal  Definition.  This  is  simply  the 
evolution  of  the  distinct  knowledge,  the  drawing  out  of 
the  marks  which  enable  us  to  distinguish  an  object  from 
other  objects.  But  deeper  than  this  lies  Real  Definition. 
This  makes  it  manifest  that  the  thing  conceived  or  alleged 
to  be  conceived  is  possible.  This  test  of  the  possible  is 
the  absence  of  contradiction  in  the  object  thought;  the 
proof  of  the  impossible  is  its  presence.  Possibility  is 
either  a priori  or  a posteriori — the  former,  when  we 
resolve  a notion  into  other  notions  of  known  possibility; 
the  latter,  when  we  have  experience  of  the  actual  exist- 
ence of  the  object;  for  what  actually  exists  is  possible. 


42 


INTRODUCTION 


Adequate  knowledge  involves  cognition  through  means  of 
a priori  possibility.  It  involves  analysis  carried  through 
to  its  end.  But  Leibnitz  hesitates  to  say  that  adequate 
cognition  is  within  our  reach.  (<  Whether  such  a perfect 
analysis  of  notions  can  ever  be  accomplished  by  man — ■ 
whether  he  can  lead  back  his  thoughts  to  first  possibles 
(prima  possibilia)  and  irresolvable  notions,  or,  what  comes 
to  the  same  thing,  to  the  absolute  attributes  of  God 
themselves,  viz,  the  first  causes, — I do  not  now  dare  to 
determine.” 

Leibnitz  properly  applies  his  distinction  of  nominal  and 
real  definition  to  the  Cartesian  proof  of  the  reality  of 
Deity  from  the  notion  of  the  most  perfect  being.  This 
he  says  is  defective  as  a proof  in  the  hands  of  Des- 
cartes. It  would  be  correct  to  say  that  God  necessarily 
exists,  if  only  he  is  first  of  all  posited  as  possible.  So 
long  as  this  is  not  done,  the  argument  for  his  existence 
does  not  amount  to  more  than  a presumption.  But  Des- 
cartes has  either  relied  on  a fallacious  proof  of  the  pos- 
sibility of  the  divine  existence,  or  he  has  endeavored  to 
evade  the  necessity  of  proving  it.  That  this  proof  can  be 
supplied  Leibnitz  believes,  and  with  this  preliminary 
requisite  fulfilled,  he  accepts  the  Cartesian  argument. 

It  is  obvious  that  the  proper  position  of  the  criterion 
of  Leibnitz  as  given  in  the  real  definition  is  at  the  very 
beginning  of  a system  of  knowledge.  Possibility,  or 
the  absence  of  contradiction,  underlies,  in  fact,  clear- 
ness and  distinctness.  It  is  essential  to  the  unity  of  any 
object  of  thought.  The  furthest  point  in  abstraction 
to  which  we  can  go  back  is  some  being  or  some  object, 
— something  as  opposed  to  nothing  or  non-being.  But 
even  this  something  must  be  at  least  definitely  thought 
or  distinguished  from  its  contradictory  opposite  non-being 
or  nothing.  If  it  were  not,  the  knowledge  would  be  im- 
possible. Its  reality  as  a positive  notion  depends  on  this. 
Nay,  even  the  negation,  non-being  or  nothing,  depends 
for  any  meaning  it  possesses  on  the  positive  being  an  ob- 
ject of  knowledge  The  correlation  here  is  not  between 
two  definite  elements;  one  known  as  positive,  the  other 
as  negative;  there  is  correlation,  but  there  is  no  corre- 
ality.  The  negative  side  is  satisfied  by  mere  negation, 
as  in  the  parallel  case  of  one  and  none.  And  no  recon- 
ciling medium  is  conceivable  — none  is  possible  to  thought. 


INTRODUCTION 


43 


If  so,  let  it  be  named.  To  galvanize  the  negative  into  a 
positive  in  such  a case,  and  call  it  synthetic  thought,  is 
simply  to  baptize  the  absurd.  This  solid  advance  on 
Descartes  is  virtually  due  to  the  acute  and  accurate  mind 
of  Leibnitz.  It  is  our  main  safeguard  against  fantastic 
speculation. 

The  most  liberal,  and  probably  the  fairest  interpreta- 
tion of  the  criterion  of  Descartes  is,  that  it  is  the  asser- 
tion of  the  need  of  evidence,  whatever  be  its  kind,  as 
the  ground  of  the  acceptance  of  a statement  or  proposi- 
tion. As  such,  it  is  the  expression  of  the  spirit  of  the 
philosophy  of  Descartes,  and  of  the  spirit  also  of  modern 
research.  As  evidence  must  make  its  appeal  to  the  indi- 
vidual mind,  it  may  be  supposed  that  this  principle  leads 
to  individualism  in  opinion.  This  is  certainly  a possible 
result,  but  it  is  not  essential  to  the  principle.  Evidence 
may  be,  nay,  is  at  once  individual  and  universal.  The 
individual  consciousness  may  realize  for  itself  what  is 
common  to  all ; and  indeed  has  not  reached  ultimate  evi- 
dence until  it  has  done  so.  And,  however  important  may 
be  the  place  of  history,  language,  and  social  institutions 
in  the  way  of  a true  and  complete  knowledge  of  mind  or 
man,  even  these  must  appeal  in  the  last  resort  to  the  con- 
scious laws  and  processes  of  evidence,  as  embodied  in 
the  individual  mind. 

From  his  virtually  making  truth  lie  in  a definite  and 
high  degree  of  conscious  activity,  Descartes  was  naturally 
led  to  regard  error  as  more  or  less  a negation,  or  rather 
privation.  This  idea  he  connects  with  Deity.  Error  is  a 
mere  negation,  in  respect  of  the  Divine  action;  it  is  a 
privation  in  respect  of  my  own  action,  inasmuch  as  I 
deprive  myself  by  it  of  something  which  I ought  to  have 
and  might  have. 

He  thus  develops  his  doctrine  of  Error. 

1.  When  I doubt,  I am  conscious  of  myself  as  an  incom- 
plete and  dependent  being ; along  with  this  consciousness, 
or,  as  we  would  now  say,  correlatively  with  it,  I have  the 
idea  of  a complete  and  independent  Being  — that  is,  God. 
This  idea  being  in  my  consciousness,  and  I existing,  the 
object  of  it  — God  — exists. 

2.  The  faculty  of  judging,  which  I possess  as  the  gift 
of  a perfect  being,  cannot  lead  me  into  error,  if  I use  it 
aright.  Yet  it  is  true  that  I frequently  err,  or  am 


44 


INTRODUCTION 


deceived.  How  is  this  consistent  with  my  faculty  of  judg* 
ing  being  the  gift  of  a perfect  God  ? 

3.  (<  I have  in  my  consciousness  not  only  a real  and 

positive  idea  of  God,  but  a certain  negative  idea  of 
nothing  — in  other  words,  of  that  which  is  at  an  infinite 
distance  from  every  sort  of  perfection;  and  a conception 
that  I am,  as  it  were,  a mean  between  God  and  nothing, 
or  placed  in  such  a way  between  absolute  existence  and 
non-existence,  that  there  is  in  truth  nothing  in  me  to  lead 
me  into  error,  in  so  far  as  an  absolute  being  is  my  creator. 
On  the  other  hand,  as  I thus  likewise  participate  in  some 
degree  of  nothing  or  of  non-being  — in  other  words,  as  I 
am  not  myself  the  Supreme  Being,  and  as  I am  wanting 
in  every  perfection,  it  is  not  surprising  I should  fall  into 
error.  And  I hence  discern  that  error,  so  far  as  error, 
is  not  something  real,  which  depends  for  its  existence  on 
God,  but  is  simply  defect.  . . . Yet  <(  error  is  not  a 

pure  negation  [in  other  words,  it  is  not  the  simple  defi- 
ciency or  want  of  some  knowledge  which  is  not  due  ] but 
the  privation  and  want  of  what  it  would  seem  I ought  to 
possess.  . . . Assuredly  God  could  have  created  me 

such  that  I should  never  be  deceived.  ...  Is  it 
better  then,  that  I should  be  capable  of  being  deceived 
than  that  I should  not  ? ® 

4.  The  answer  to  this  is  twofold.  First,  I,  as  finite,  am 
incapable  of  comprehending  always  the  reasons  of  the 
Divine  action;  and,  secondly,  what  appears  to  be  imper- 
fection in  a creature  regarded  as  alone  in  the  world, 
may  not  really  be  so,  if  the  creature  be  considered  as 
occupying  <(  a place  in  the  relation  of  a part  to  the  great 
whole  of  His  creatures.®  What  precisely  that  relation  is, 
Descartes  does  not  undertake  to  specify.  This  solution 
of  the  difficulty  is,  therefore,  only  problematical. 

5.  As  a matter  of  observation,  error  depends  on  the 
concurrence  of  two  causes,  to  wit  — Knowledge  and  Will. 
By  the  Understanding  alone,  I neither  affirm  nor  deny; 
but  merely  apprehend  or  conceive  ideas.  It  is  Judg- 
ment which  affirms  or  denies.  And  here  we  must  dis- 
tinguish between  non-possession  and  privation.  There 
may  be,  and  are,  innumerable  objects  in  the  universe  of 
which  I possess  no  ideas.  But  this  is  simple  non-posses- 
sion; it  arises  from  my  finitude.  It  is  not  privation,  for 
it  cannot  be  shown  to  be  the  keeping  or  taking  away 


INTRODUCTION 


45 


from  me  of  what  I ought  to  have.  The  form  or  essence  of 
error  lies  not  in  non-possession,  but  in  privation.  So  far 
as  Deity  is  concerned,  this  non-possession  on  my  part  of 
certain  ideas  is  properly  negation,  not  privation;  for  it  is 
not  properly  a thing  or  existence.  It  is  merely  that 
Deity,  in  determining  my  knowledge,  has  allowed  that 
knowledge  a definite  sphere  of  possibility,  and  restricted 
it  from  objects  beyond.  But  as  I never  had,  or  can  be 
shown  to  have  had,  any  a priori  right  to  more  than  I 
have  actually  got,  there  never  was  in  respect  of  me  any 
privation. 

6.  Again,  there  are  objects  which  are  not  clearly  and 
distinctly  apprehended  by  the  Understanding.  This  may 
be  a mere  temporary  state  of  mind,  which  is  capable  of 
being  removed  by  clear  and  distinct  knowledge.  These 
two  facts,  then,  that  in  some  quarters  there  is  no  knowl- 
edge, and  that  knowledge  is  in  some  cases  not  clear  or 
distinct,  render  error  possible.  For  the  power  of  will, 
which  is  wider  than  the  understanding  — in  fact,  abso- 
lutely unlimited,  unlike  the  other  faculties  — may  force 
on  a- judgment  either  in  the  absence  of  knowledge,  or 
with  imperfect  knowledge.  Hence  error;  and  hence  also, 
in  the  case  of  good  and  evil,  sin;  for  error  and  sin  are 
both  ultimately  products  of  free  will.  Descartes  holds 
very  strongly  and  definitely  in  regard  to  will  that  it  is 
a faculty  (<  which  I experience  to  be  so  great,  that  I am 
unable  to  conceive  the  idea  of  another  that  shall  be  more 
ample  and  extended;  so  that  it  is  chiefly  my  will 
which  leads  me  to  discern  that  I bear  a certain 
image  and  similitude  of  Deity.®  The  will  consists  only 
of  a single  and  indivisible  element;  hence  nothing  can 
be  taken  from  it  without  destroying  it.  Its  power  lies 
in  this,  that  we  are  able  to  do  or  not  to  do  the  same 
thing;  or  rather,  that  in  affirming  or  denying,  pursuing 
or  shunning,  what  is  proposed  to  us  by  the  understand- 
ing, we  so  act  that  we  are  not  conscious  of  being  deter- 
mined to  a particular  action  by  any  external  force.  Its 
essence  is  not,  however,  in  indifference  in  respect  to  the 
same  thing;  this  is  the  lowest  grade  of  liberty.  On  the 
contrary,  the  greater  degree  of  knowledge  the  mind 
possesses  as  to  one  of  the  alternatives,  and  the  conse- 
quently greater  inclination  of  the  will  to  adopt  that 
alternative,  the  more  freedom  there  is;  freedom  consist- 


46 


INTRODUCTION 


ing  ultimately  in  a consciousness  of  not  being  determined 
to  a particular  action  by  any  external  force.  It  is,  in  a 
word,  great  clearness  of  the  understanding,  followed  by 
strong  inclination  in  the  will.  As,  however,  we  do  not 
always  wait  for  this  condition,  but  determine  affirmatively 
or  negatively,  or  pursue  and  shun,  without  it,  we  fall 
into  error  or  sin. 

Error  is  thus  no  direct  consequence  of  finitude;  only 
the  possibility  of  it  is  so.  It  is  properly  to  be  regarded 
as  the  result  of  privation,  and  this  is  my  own  wilful  act. 
It  should,  however,  be  observed  here,  that  Descartes’s 
positions  regarding  the  will  do  not  appear  to  be  consist- 
ent. The  two  definitions  of  liberty  which  he  gives  are 
exclusive  of  each  other.  We  cannot  be  conceived  abso- 
lutely free  in  respect  of  two  given  alternatives,  and  yet 
free  when  the  inclination  of  the  will  follows  the  greater 
clearness  of  the  Understanding.  The  former  is  the  lib- 
erty of  indifference;  the  latter  is  simply  that  of  spon- 
taneity,— the  spontaneity  being  relative  to  a previous 
or  conditioning  state  of  the  consciousness. 

It  is  further  clear  from  the  statements  now  quoted, 
that  Descartes  did  not  regard  the  Ego  of  consciousness 
as  either  a negation,  non-entity,  or  illusion,  as  is  repre- 
sented, but  a very  definite  and  real  positive  — a mean, 
as  he  puts  it,  between  absolute  existence  on  the  one  side, 
and  non-existence  on  the  other.  He  certainly  did  not 
hold  that  the  finite  consciousness,  so  far  as  finite  is  either 
an  error  or  an  illusion.  On  the  contrary,  it  is  with  him 
the  basis  of  the  very  possibility  of  knowledge,  and  the 
type  and  warrant  of  a higher  consciousness.  And  what 
other  ground  is  possible  ? If  the  finite  by  itself  be  re- 
garded as  an  illusion,  and  the  infinite  by  itself  be 
regarded  as  the  same,  it  is  curious  to  find  that  the  two 
together  make  up  reality.  In  this  case,  the  relation  be- 
tween infinite  and  finite  may  be  assumed  as  the  true 
reality.  So  long  as  we  hold  the  relation  in  conscious- 
ness, infinite  and  finite  are  known,  and  therefore  real. 
But  ere  we  can  make  this  out,  we  must  vindicate  the 
possibility  of  a conscious  relation  between  two  terms,  in 
themselves  incognizable,  non-existent,  or  illusory.  Being 
must  thus  mean  a groundless  relation  suspended  in  vacuo. 

Nor  is  there  anything  special  to  his  doctrine  of  Error 
which  logically  compels  him  to  hold  those  conclusions. 


INTRODUCTION 


47 


Principles  of  inference  entirely  foreign  to  his  system  and 
habit  of  thought  may  be  assumed,  and  conclusions  of  this 
sort  thus  forced  on  his  premises.  It  may,  for  example, 
be  said,  with  Spinoza,  that  “ determination  is  negation,® 
and  that  the  finite,  as  finite,  is  a mere  negation  or  non- 
entity ; because  it  is  a negation  of  the  absolute  substance, 
or  of  an  Infinite  Ego,  or  Infinite  Self-consciousness  — 
whatever  ambiguity  such  phrases  may  be  supposed  to 
cover.  But  this  may  be  said  of  any  doctrine  whatever 
which  recognizes  the  Ego  of  consciousness  as  simply  a 
fact  or  reality.  And  the  principle  of  every  determination 
being  a negation  is  neither  unambiguous  nor  self-evident ; 
in  several  senses,  it  is  rather  self-condemned.  It  stands  in 
need,  at  least,  of  thorough  and  precise  vindication  ere  it 
is  of  use'  in  any  process  of  inference.  In  this  application, 
at  any  rate,  it  will  be  hard  to  show  its  consistency.  We 
must  have  the  proof,  in  the  first  instance,  of  the  Absolute 
Substance  or  Infinite  Ego  which  the  being  of  the  finite 
Ego  negates.  Is  it  said  that  the  Infinite  Ego  is  the  nec- 
essary correlate  of  the  finite  Ego  ? What,  then  ? Does 
this  correlation  imply  that  the  correlate  or  Infinite  Ego 
is  real  in  the  sense  in  which  the  Ego  of  consciousness 
is  real  ? Or  rather  even,  as  it  seems  to  be  inferred,  does 
it  necessarily  imply  that  the  Ego  of  consciousness  discovers 
itself  not  to  be  what  it  at  first  is  conscious  that  it  is,  and 
is  really  only  a mode  of  this  truly  existing  Infinite  Ego  ? 
These  are  points  in  the  logic  of  the  process  which  ought 
not  to  be  passed  over  without  notice  or  vindication.  And 
even  if  we  get  somehow  the  length  or  the  height  of  the 
so-called  Infinite,  we  must  then  ask  whether  the  Infinite 
Ego  means  merely  the  abstract  notion  of  an  Ego,  or 
whether  it  means  a self-conscious  Ego  that  actually  per- 
vades all  being.  If  the  former,  the  so-called  determina- 
tion is  but  an  instance  of  the  contemporary  realization  of 
the  individual  fact  and  the  general  notion.  If  the  latter, 
it  is  impossible  that  there  can  be  a finite  Ego  at  all.  It 
is  not  possible  even  in  correlation.  But,  secondly,  the 
result  is  not  either  possible  or  consistent.  If  the  definite 
Ego  of  consciousness  loses  hold  of  its  determination  or 
limitation,  it  loses  hold  of  itself  — it  no  longer  is;  if  it 
retains  its  limit  or  determination,  it  is  not  the  Infinite 
Ego;  if  it  commits  the  absurdity  of  losing  hold  of  it  and 
yet  retaining  it,  it  loses  hold  of  itself,  but  does  not  become 


48 


INTRODUCTION 


the  Infinite  Ego ; in  plain  words,  the  (<  I » of  our  conscious- 
ness cannot  be  both  man  and  God.  That  the  finite  con- 
sciousness is  the  infinite  or  divine  consciousness  is  asserted 
on  such  a principle ; it  is  as  far  from  proof  as  ever  it  was. 


VII.  The  Ego  and  the  Material  World. 

On  this  point  the  doctrine  of  Descartes  may  be  sum- 
marily stated. 

We  have,  in  the  first  place  an  assured  world  of  conscious- 
ness with  the  Ego  as  its  centre, — the  centre  of  thoughts 
and  ideas.  But  Descartes  recognizes,  as  he  must,  the 
knowledge  of  extension  or  an  extended  object, — of  a thing 
filling  space.  This  knowledge  is  in  the  consciousness. 
How  is  it  got?  From  the  senses  somehow.  But  what 
precisely  is  the  knowledge  the  senses  give  us  of  the 
material  non-Ego  ? Have  we  as  direct  a knowledge  of  it 
as  we  have  of  consciousness  and  its  modes  ? In  the  view 
of  Decartes  certainly  not.  The  extended  does  not  guar- 
antee its  own  existence,  as  the  consciousness  does.  We 
are  not  at  once  involved  in  self-contradiction,  in  denying 
its  reality,  as  we  are  in  the  case  of  our  consciousness.  The 
extended  is  known  through  idea  or  representation ; and  it 
is  the  problem  of  Cartesianism  to  vindicate  the  reality  on 
the  ground  of  the  idea,  to  show  that  outside  of  conscious- 
ness, as  it  were,  there  is  an  object  corresponding  to  idea 
in  the  circle  of  consciousness  itself. 

Herein  lies  the  so-called  dualism  of  Descartes;  but,  in 
point  of  fact,  it  is  but  one  form  of  his  dualism,  for  there 
is  with  him  the  contrast  between  the  finite  Ego  and  God, 
and  this  is  as  much  a dualism  as  the  contrast  between 
consciousness  and  extension.  But  the  position  of  Descartes 
in  relation  to  mind  and  matter  is  that,  on  the  one  hand, 
there  is  consciousness;  on  the  other,  there  is  extension, 
implying  or  rendering  possible  figure  and  motion.  Accept- 
ing these  as  the  only  possible  qualities  of  matter,  Descartes 
sought  to  show  how  all  the  phenomena  of  the  material 
universe  might  be  produced,  and  according  to  the  notional 
method  of  his  philosophy  at  once  inferred  that  they 
actually  were  so  produced.  This  of  course  resulted  in  a 
mere  ignoring  alike  of  facts  and  laws,  especially  of  the 


INTRODUCTION 


49 


great  Newtonian  principle  of  gravitation,  which  could 
have  no  place  in  such  a physical  philosophy  as  that  of 
Descartes. 

But  consciousness  being  set  on  one  side,  and  extension 
or  body  on  the  other,  the  question  arose  in  the  mind  of 
Descartes  as  to  whether,  or  rather  how,  there  could  pos- 
sibly be  between  these  the  relation  of  knowledge.  If 
he  had  simply  asked  whether  there  was  such  a relation, 
the  problem  was  not  of  difficult  solution;  but  when  he 
asked  how  such  a relation  was  possible,  he  raised  a 
totally  different  and  probably  illegitimate  question.  But 
be  this  as  it  may,  Descartes  held  that  there  could  be  no 
immediate  consciousness  of  extension  or  an  extended  ob- 
ject on  the  part  of  the  mind.  The  process  of  Percep- 
tion, according  to  Descartes,  may  be  stated  as  follows: 
There  is  the  occurrence  of  organic  impressions  on  organ, 
nerve,  and  brain.  The  last  of  these  reaches  the  central 
point  of  the  nervous  organization,  — by  him  regarded  as 
the  pineal  gland,  — these  organic  movements  are  not  in 
consciousness  at  all;  even  the  last  of  them  is  not  appre-- 
hended  or  known  in  the  process  of  our  sensitive  con- 
sciousness. Yet  the  apprehension  of  the  extra-orgame 
object  is  impossible  without  these  as  conditions  of  our 
knowledge.  On  occasion  of  the  last  of  the  organic  move- 
ments an  idea  of  the  extra-organic  object  is  generated 
in  the  consciousness.  This  is  the  single  object  of  con- 
sciousness. It  is  representative  of  the  outward  object,  — 
of  the  external  or  extra-organic  object.  Through  and  on 
the  ground  of  this  representative  idea  we  know  and  be- 
lieve in  a world  of  outward  objects.  Descartes  uses  idea 
both  for  those  organic  movements,  — the  traces  on  the 
brain,  and  for  the  conscious  representation ; but  nothing 
can  be  clearer  than  that  he  held  the  former  to  lie  wholly 
beyond  consciousness  during  the  time  of  their  occurrence, 
and  to  be  merely  the  occasions  on  which  the  mental  idea 
rose  into  consciousness.  Here  he  virtually  supposes 
supernatural  action  to  excite  the  idea;  and  he  makes  an 
appeal  to  the  veracity  of  Deity  to  guarantee  the  infer- 
ence of  outward  reality  from  it. 

Descartes’s  treatment  of  this  point  cannot  be  said  to  be 
satisfactory.  Indeed  no  satisfactory  dealing  with  the 
problem  is  possible,  as  its  terms  were  put  by 
Descartes.  His  position  in  substance  is,  that  as  God  is 
4 


5° 


INTRODUCTION 


veracious,  we  may  trust  that  the  idea  really  and  ade- 
quately represents  the  material  non- Ego.  But  of  course 
there  is  the  prior  question  as  to  how  the  idea  came 
into  the  conciousness,  and  then  as  to  the  right  we 
have  to  suppose  it  representative.  The  veracity  of 
Deity,  even  if  adequately  and  logically  vindicated  for 
the  system,  would  guarantee  nothing  to  us  beyond 
what  our  consciousness  or  idea  might  actually  testify. 
And  if  the  idea  be  not  properly  got,  be  not  a real  idea, 
and  if  the  conditions  under  which  it  is  supposed  to  be 
got  render  its  representative  character  logically  impos- 
sible, the  veracity  of  Deity  could  not  help  us  to  give 
an  untrue  reality  or  character  to  the  idea.  We  should 
then  be  merely  calling  in  the  veracity  of  Deity  to  en- 
able us  to  assert  as  real  and  true  what  was  simply  a 
matter  of  our  own  fancy  and  fiction;  to  give  to  a thing, 
a reality  and  character  which  it  had  not,  and  not  merely 
to  obviate  objections  or  satisfy  doubt  regarding  the 
reality  and  the  character  which  it  proclaimed  itself  to 
have.  God’s  veracity  can  never  be  pledged  for  any- 
thing more  than  the  facts  of  consciousness  are,  or  the 
deliverance  of  consciousness  declares.  And  to  ascertain 
this  in  the  first  place  is  the  task  of  philosophical  method 
and  reflective  analysis. 

With  respect  to  the  first  question,  as  to  how  we 
know  the  extended  reality  in  which  we  believe,  whether 
by  intuition  or  indirectly,  there  are  passages  in 
Descartes  which  point  to  the  acknowledgment  of  direct 
or  intuitive  knowledge.  But  he  gives  this  up,  and, 
through  force  of  old  presumption,  restricts  perception  to 
ideas  or  states  of  consciousness. 

Obviously,  if  intuition  cannot  be  made  out  in  some  form 
or  other,  a material  non- Ego,  must  be  given  up;  and 
certainly  the  hypothesis  of  the  representative  idea,  as  is 
now  well  acknowledged,  will  not  help  us.  To  think  out 
the  notion  of  a material  non- Ego,  from  the  requisites  of 
mere  self-consciousness,  is  impossible.  Nothing  can  be 
weaker  than  Kant’s  vacillating  attempts  at  the  proof  of  a 
world  in  space  and  time  from  self-consciousness.  This 
could  be  done  only  as  the  requisite  of  the  difference  of 
the  self  from  the  not-self ; but  this  is  satisfied  by  the  mere 
modes  of  consciousness  themselves  varying  in  time.  Self, 
apart  from  these,  is  unknowable  and  unthinkable,  but 


INTRODUCTION 


5i 


not  apart  from  a fnaterial  non-Ego.  Again,  a represent- 
ative idea  is  impossible  apart  from  repeated  intuitive  acts. 
The  points  and  details  must  be  successively  apprehended 
ere  they  can  be  cognized  in  representation.  And  we 
must  apprehend  these  as  the  condition  of  our  recognition 
of  the  correct  representation. 

But  Descartes  seems  to  have  had  difficulties,  as  is 
usual,  as  to  the  possibility  of  direct  knowledge  by  con- 
sciousness of  extension.  These  were  part  of  the  general 
alleged  difficulties  as  to  how  two  things  so  different  in 
nature  as  consciousness  and  extension  could  have  com- 
munion or  intercourse  — how  mind  could  know  matter, 
or  influence  it  in  anything — how  matter  could  act  upon 
or  affect  mind.  As  to  the  general  fact  of  the  intuition 
of  extension,  or  any  material  quality,  he  did  not  see  that 
in  so  dealing  with  the  question  he  was  illogically  putting 
the  question  of  possibility  before  the  question  of  fact. 
This  order  could  only  be  fairly  followed  on  a system 
which  professed  to  demonstrate  a priori , or  by  pure 
thought,  the  possibility  of  knowledge,  and  through  this 
possibility  to  determine  the  facts,  or  at  least  to  make  the 
conception  of  the  facts  square  with  the  ideal  possibility. 
This  need  not  at  present  be  discussed;  for  although 
Descartes  was  in  a sense  demonstrative,  this  was  not  the 
kind  of  demonstration  he  contemplated;  and  it  is  one 
which,  as  might  be  anticipated,  is  exceedingly  likely  to 
mutilate  the  integrity  alike  of  truth  and  philosophy. 
But  Descartes  had  no  idea  of  demonstrating  either  the 
possibility  of  knowledge  or  the  contents  of  knowledge. 
His  demonstration  was  so  far  a legitimate  one.  He  sought 
or  assumed  facts  of  experience  or  consciousness,  and  en- 
deavored to  show  their  logical  connections  and  relations. 
The  method  when  carried  out  in  its  integrity,  is  primarily 
one  of  observation  and  reflective  analysis.  And  in  order 
to  the  faithful  application  of  it,  we  must  scrutinize  care- 
fully and  fully  every  form  of  our  conscious  life,  and 
every,  even  apparent,  deliverance  of  our  intelligence. 
This  at  least  is  the  first  thing  to  be  done,  whatever 
theory  we  may  afterward  form  of  the  origin  or  genesis 
of  those  forms  of  our  conscious  life,  or  even,  if  that  be 
possible,  of  our  consciousness  itself.  Of  all  things  the 
most  unwarrantable,  is  to  adopt,  whether  on  so-called 
grounds  of  reason  or  on  tradition,  which  comes  to  verv 


52 


INTRODUCTION 


much  the  same  thing,  certain  general  assumptions  re- 
garding what  is  possible  or  impossible  in  knowledge,  and 
by  means  of  these  assumptions  to  override,  mutilate,  or 
reject  the  positive  deliverances  of  our  intelligence  — 
especially  on  the  side  of  intuition.  But  this  is  precisely 
what  Descartes  seems  to  have  done;  it  is  what  has  been 
done  repeatedly  since  his  time ; it  is  done  now ; and  until 
philosophical  method  is  freed  from  this  unfaithfulness, 
philosophy  can  make  no  real  progress,  and  will  continue 
to  fall  short  of  the  breadth  of  experience  and  reality. 

So  far  as  the  knowledge  of  a material  non- Ego  is  con- 
cerned, the  question  is  simply  one  of  analysis  of  our 
consciousness.  We  cannot  beforehand  say,  it  is  impossi- 
ble I can  know  aught  of  extension  or  resistance,  or  any 
other  form  of  reality,  because  I can  know  only  my  own 
states  of  consciousness,  or  because  I cannot  know  anything 
distinct  from  myself.  This  is  to  suppose  that  you  have  a 
philosophy  ere  you  set  about  seeking  it.  Where  has  this 
superior  philosophy  been  got,  and  what  is  its  guarantee  ? 
Only  in  that  consciousness  the  fullness  of  whose  deliver- 
ances it  is  adduced  to  discredit.  For  a consciousness  to 
me  above  my  consciousness  is  an  absurdity  and  contra- 
diction in  terms. 

If  we  look  for  a moment  at  some  of  the  supposed  diffi- 
culties alleged  against  the  intuition  of  a material  non- Ego, 
we  shall  see  both  how  assumptive  and  how  trifling  they 
are. 

It  seems  that  the  mind  or  consciousness,  in  order  to 
apprehend  extension,  or  in  apprehending  extension,  must 
become  extended  — that  is,  must  cease  to  be  mind.  Or 
the  mind  being  indivisible,  if  it  apprehends  extension, 
must  become  divisible  — and  so  on.  Why  must  this  be? 
Simply  from  an  abuse  of  words  and  a false  analogy.  Ex- 
tension apprehended  is  said  to  be  within  consciousness; 
consciousness  is  therefore  necessarily  extended;  it  has 
parts  beyond  parts  like  extension.  A sufficient  answer  to 
this  would  be  — when  I am  conscious  of  extension,  as  a 
series  of  coexisting  points,  I do  not  cease  to  be  conscious 
of  mind  — I do  not  become  extended  or  divisible  — nay,  I 
should  not  know  what  extension  or  divisibility  meant  at 
all,  if  I had  not  in  myself  the  co-apprehension  of  the  non- 
extended  and  indivisible.  I know  or  apprehend  only 
through  contrast  and  correlation ; and  if  all  in  knowledge 


INTRODUCTION 


53 


be  one,  say  the  extended,  I do  not  know  the  extended  at 
all.  It  is  really  nothing  for  me  or  my  knowledge.  Con- 
sciousness as  I experience  it,  and  as  I can  conceive  it,  is 
an  antithesis  — a varying  contrast  — through  an  identity, 
of  acts  or  states  and  me,  of  objects  of  these  acts  and  me, 
of  the  successive  and  the  one,  of  the  divisible  and  the 
indivisible,  the  extended  and  the  non-extended:  and 

because  I am  or  am  supposed  to  be  percipient  of  an 
object  made  up  of  parts  beyond  parts,  I no  more  become 
such,  or  cease  to  be  the  one  indivisible  knower,  than  I 
cease  to  be  one  because  I am  conscious  in  succession  of 
various  thoughts  or  feelings.  The  expression,  within 
consciousness,  indicates  simply  a false  analogy  based  on 
the  previous  assumption  that  consciousness  is  an  extended 
thing,  which,  like  the  object  perceived,  is  capable  of  a 
within  and  a without  — that  is,  it  is  a mere  begging  of 
the  point  at  issue. 

The  truth  is,  that  so  far  as  this  point  is  concerned,  so 
far  from  knowledge  implying  an  identity  between  the 
subject  knowing  and  the  object  known,  it  rather  pos- 
tulates a difference ; for  we  always  and  must  always 
distinguish  subject  and  object  in  the  act.  But  it  should 
be  kept  in  mind  that  in  order  to  constitute  this  differ- 
ence we  do  not  require  an  object  such  as  extension  or 
resistance ; we  require  only  a mode  of  consciousness  what- 
ever that  may  be,  feeling  or  desire.  This  enables  us  to 
discriminate  self  and  mode,  or  self  and  object,  as  well  as 
extension  or  resistance.  The  extended,  and  to  us  insen- 
tient, is  the  true  test,  not  of  self  and  its  modes,  but  of 
self  and  its  modes  on  the  one  hand,  and  the  material 
non-Ego  on  the  other.  Self  might  be  realized  in  the 
fullness  of  its  being  through  the  moments  of  time;  its 
conception  of  reality  is  amplified  by  the  apprehension  of 
the  points  of  space;  but  this  does  not  make  it  to  be  or 
to  know  more  truly  what  it  is.  The  living  spirit  knows 
itself  to  be  in  the  very  movements  which  reveal  its  life. 
If  this  be  so,  the  material  non-Ego  is  not  the  necessary 
diverse  correlate  of  the  Ego;  the  Ego  is  not  subverted 
by  its  subversion,  but  the  field  is  left  open,  apart  from 
all  a priori  assumption  as  to  its  powers  of  apprehension 
and  compass ; and  a basis  is  laid  for  the  requirements  of 
a faithful  and  sound  psychology.  The  whole,  too,  of  the 
speculation  subsequent  to  Descartes  regarding  Occasional 


54 


INTRODUCTION 


Causes,  Vision  in  Deity,  and  Pre-established  Harmony, 
originating  in  the  groundless  difficulty  which  he  felt  about 
the  knowledge  of  the  material  non- Ego,  is  superseded 
as  being  devised  merely  to  overcome  an  imaginary 
difficulty. 

But  the  whole  of  the  current  doctrine  of  subjectivity 
is  based  on  an  assumption  or  an  imperfect  analysis  of 
the  matter  of  fact.  The  phrases,  <(  state  of  conscious- 
ness,w and  (<our  knowledge  being  confined  to  states  of 
consciousness, w are  about  as  ambiguous  as  can  well  be 
imagined.  They  confound  the  knowledge  by  the  con- 
scious self  of  its  modes  with  the  knowledge  by  the 
conscious  self  of  qualities  of  a wholly  different  order. 
The  first  is  a self-guaranteeing  knowledge,  as  we  have 
seen;  the  other  is  a knowledge,  but  it  is  not  self -guar- 
anteeing, at  least  on  the  principle  of  non-contradiction. 
I am  conscious  of  purely  subjective  states;  I am  further 
conscious  of  a sentient  extended  organism,  which  I call 
my  body,  and  at  the  same  time  I am  conscious  of  an  ex- 
tension, which  is  no  part  of  my  sentient  organism,  cor- 
responding to  the  surface  of  contact.  This  is  as  clear  and 
distinct  a deliverance  of  consciousness  as  can  be  found 
in  experience.  Even  supposing  it  to  be  shown  that  we 
have  no  consciousness  of  external  qualities  until  the  sen- 
sorium  is  reached  by  the  ordinary  organic  impressions, 
this  by  no  means  proves  that  the  perceptive  faculty,  as 
conscious,  does  not  reach  the  utmost  bound  of  the  bodily 
organism,  the  moment  the  stimulus  is  completed.  None 
of  these  preceding  organic  impressions  is  an  object  of 
consciousness  at  all;  and  what  we  may  perceive,  though 
following  upon  these,  is  by  no  means  limited  by  them. 
The  scope  of  consciousness  must,  in  a word,  be  tested 
by  what  consciousness  actually  declares.  The  sentiency 
we  experience  and  feel  is  all  through  the  bodily  organ- 
ism; for,  as  Mr.  Lewes  has  shown,  the  brain  is  not 
exclusively  the  organ  of  sensation.  But  there  is  a limit 
to  this  sentiency  — beyond  which  it  cannot  go,  and  which 
it  does  not  transcend.  This  is  found  at  the  point  of 
contact  between  the  bodily  surface  and  what  we  are  thus 
entitled  to  call  the  external  object.  As  this  quality  or 
object  is  not  felt  or  known  by  us  to  be  sentient  or  part 
of  our  sentiency  as  our  bodily  organism  is,  we  regard  it 
as  a non-Ego,  or  as  not  identical  with  any  mode  of  our 


INTRODUCTION 


55 


consciousness.  This  is  for  us  the  material  or  truly  ex- 
ternal non- Ego.  The  outward  material  world  is  for  us 
the  insentient,  extended,  and  resisting.  Our  test  of 
this  as  an  independent  existence,  as  something 
more  than  a mere  state  of  sentiency  or  conscious- 
ness is,  that  it  is  not  necessary  to  the  existence  or 
to  the  fact  of  our  consciousness.  I am  conscious 
does  not  imply  an  outward  material  non-Ego;  it  implies 
merely  a distinction  in  the  consciousness  itself  between 
the  Ego  and  the  mode,  and  between  the  Ego  and  the 
successive  modes.  Withdraw  either  of  those,  and  my 
consciousness  perishes.  But  it  is  not  so  with  the  qual- 
ities of  extension  and  resistance  correlative  to  my  living 
and  moving  organism.  Consciousness  is  not  subverted 
by  taking  those  away;  and  the  conclusion,  therefore,  is 
irresistible  that  I am,  whether  they  subsist  or  not — 
that  they  are  not  identical  with  my  being  — that,  in  a 
word,  there  is  a mutual  independence  and  correality 
between  me,  the  conscious  subject,  and  those  qualities 
or  objects  of  consciousness,  at  least  during  the  act  of 
perception.  This,  as  appears  to  me,  is  the  last  point  in 
the  analysis  of  perception  which  we  can  reach.  It  is  for 
us  an  ultimate  and  irreconcilable  antithesis  of  being.  It 
is  given  us,  too,  by  that  consciousness  which,  in  its 
ultimate  and  fully  analyzed  primary  data,  is  the  supreme 
source  of  knowledge  for  us.  That  there  is  some  trans- 
cendent ultimate  unity,  from  which  both  the  Ego  and 
the  non-Ego  flow,  is  a plausible  hypothesis:  but  it  is  only 
a hypothesis  — one  more  or  less  probable,  but  incapable 
by  us  of  absolute  proof.  Any  process  of  the  develop- 
ment of  the  Ego  and  non-Ego  from  an  absolute,  yet 
given  by  speculative  philosophy,  turns  out,  on  exam- 
ination, to  be  a mere  piece  of  verbalism  — a formula  of 
abstraction  which  leaves  out  the  differences,  and  thus 
eviscerates  the  problem  to  be  solved,  or  which,  con- 
founding affirmation  and  negation,  abolishes  knowledge. 
And  as  for  a scientific  solution  of  the  problem,  we  may 
say  this  at  least  with  safety,  that  none  has  as  yet  been  given. 

Even  the  lower  position  of  a mechanical  equivalent  of 
each  state  of  consciousness  is  not  likely  to  fare  better,  if 
we  may  judge  from  a recent  attempt  at  a statement  of 
the  question  made  by  a physicist  of  note.*  It  is,  first 

* Professor  Huxley,  Lay  Sermons. — ( Descartes, > p.  339. 


5<5 


INTRODUCTION 


of  all,  broadly  laid  down  that  all  we  can  know  of  the 
universe  is  a state  of  consciousness.  Applying  this  par- 
ticularly to  what  we  speak  of  as  the  material  universe, 
the  phenomena  of  nature  are  simply  states  of  conscious- 
ness. At  the  same  time,  it  is  maintained  that  there  is, 
and  will  ultimately  be  found,  wa  mechanical  equivalent® 
of  each  state  of  consciousness.  There  is  w a correlation 
of  all  the  phenomena  of  the  universe  with  matter  and 
motion.®  This  language  obviously  points  to  a dualism. 
What  precisely  is  (<the  mechanical  equivalent  of  con- 
sciousness * here  referred  to  ? It  is  something  in  corre- 
lation with  the  state  of  consciousness;  it  is  its  mechan- 
ical equivalent,  as  there  is  a mechanical  equivalent  of 
heat.  But  in  the  same  breath  we  are  told  that  our 
knowledge  is  entirely  restricted  to  states  of  conscious- 
ness. Is  this  mechanical  equivalent  known  to  us  ? In 
that  case,  it  can  be  but  a state  of  consciousness.  Indeed 
we  are  expressly  told  that  w matter®  and  a force,®  so  far 
as  known  to  us,  and,  in  other  words,  so  far  as  they  are 
anything  to  us,  are  simply  states  of  consciousness.  Then 
what  sort  of  mechanical  equivalent  or  correlation  have 
we  here?  Not  two  things  at  all — not  the  mechanical 
force  and  the  state  of  consciousness,  but  simply  two  states 
of  consciousness,  the  one  which  we  call,  viz,  feeling, — 
the  other  which  we  name  its  mechanical  equivalent  — 
perhaps  a pound  weight  falling  through  a foot.  We 
have  not,  therefore,  explained  the  state  of  consciousness, 
or  resolved  it  into  anything  different  from  itself.  We 
have  simply  said  that  one  state  of  consciousness,  which 
we  call  a mechanical  equivalent,  is  followed  by  another, 
which  we  call  feeling  or  volition.  This  is  not  to  explain 
the  state  of  consciousness  by  anything  in  mere  correla- 
tion with  it;  it  is  merely  to  say  that  there  is  a certain 
or  regulated  succession  in  the  states  of  consciousness 
themselves.  But  each  state  is  as  far  from  being  re- 
solved into  a correlative  mechanical  equivalent  as  ever 
it  was;  nay,  more,  we  have  given  up  the  whole  hypoth- 
esis of  dualism,  while  we  retain  its  language,  and  think 
we  have  effected  a reconciliation  of  materialism  and 
spiritualism.  In  saying  that  all  we  know  or  can  know 
is  a state  of  consciousness,  we  preclude  ourselves  from 
asserting,  anything  that  is  not  a state  of  conscious- 
ness— and  any  mere  hypothetical  matter  or  force  or 


INTRODUCTION 


57 


motion  which  we  postulate  as  in  correlation,  is  illegitimately 
assumed  as  a fact  — nay,  illegitimately  even  conceived 
as  an  idea. 


VIII.  Innate  Ideas. 

The  predicate  “ innate  ” has  been  a source  of  great  de- 
bate in  connection  with  the  philosophy  of  Descartes. 
But  any  one  who  intelligently  apprehends  its  first  prin- 
ciples, will  readily  see  both  what  it  means  and  what  is 
the  extent  of  its  application  in  his  philosophy.  It  will 
be  found  to  amount  to  this,  that  there  is  no  mental  mod- 
ification whatever  in  our  consciousness,  which,  according 
to  Descartes,  is  not  innate.  But  it  is  innate  not  in  the 
sense  of  being  actually  developed,  or  an  actual  modifica- 
tion of  consciousness ; innate  only  in  the  sense  of  being 
a potentiality  capable  of  development  into  a form  of 
consciousness,  yet  waiting  certain  conditions  ere  this 
takes  place.  In  this  sense,  every  idea  of  perception,  and 
every  state  of  sensation  is  innate.  The  supposed  outward 
world  and  the  organic  impressions  which  precede  per- 
ception and  sensation  lie  wholly  beyond  consciousness. 
Yet,  but  for  their  action  in  the  view  of  Descartes,  neither 
perception  nor  sensation  would  occur.  At  the  same 
time,  their  influence  ceases  at  the  threshold  of  conscious- 
ness, and  when  their  action  is  completed,  there  originate 
in  the  mind  out  of  its  own  nature  the  conscious  idea  of 
extension,  and  the  conscious  sensation  of  color  or  sound. 
These  ideas  and  sensations  are  wholly  innate,  in  the 
sense  that  they  are  evolutions  of  the  consciousness  alone ; 
that  they  are  not  transmitted  to  the  mind  by  the  action 
of  outward  objects  or  by  the  organic  impressions.  They 
are  the  forms  of  a new  and  independent  power,  which 
arise  simply  on  occasion  of  external  stimuli,  but  which 
these  stimuli  serve  in  no  way  to  create.  Perceptions  are 
innate, — due  to  the  independency  of  the  mind,  on  the 
theory  of  Descartes,  hardly  less  than  they  are  innate  on 
the  doctrine  of  the  spontaneous  monadic  development  of 
Leibnitz. 

But  there  is  another  class  of  mental  modifications  with 
Descartes.  These  are  not  perceptions  or  sensations. 
They  are  “truths,”  or  “common  notions,”  or  universal 


58 


INTRODUCTION 


principles, — such  as  the  law  of  substance  and  quality  and 
of  non-contradiction.  These  too  are  innate, — especially 
innate  They  are  innate  potentialities,  over  and  above 
mere  perceptions  or  sensations.  They  too  become  actual 
in  experience  — but,  unlike  sensation,  they  are  not  im- 
mediately preceded  by  organic  impressions.  The  moment 
the  doctrine  of  Descartes  is  thus  correctly  apprehended, 
the  whole  polemic  of  Locke  against  <(  Innate  Ideas ® is 
seen  to  be  irrelevant.  If  the  doctrine  is  to  be  validly 
assailed,  it  must  be  on  wholly  other  grounds  than  those 
stated  by  Locke.* 


IX.  Malebranche  (1638-1715).! 

In  accordance  with  the  usual  Hegelian  formula  as  ap- 
plied to  history,  an  attempt  is  made  to  show  that  the 
system  of  Descartes  is  part  of  the  evolution  of  what  is 
called  (<  thought.  * It  is  assumed,  accordingly,  that  there 
is  but  a single  conception  at  the  root  of  the  philosophy 
of  Descartes, — that  this  runs  all  through  his  thinking, — 
and  that  it  is  carried  to  its  necessary  development  by 
the  force  of  (<the  immanent  dialectic,®  through  Male- 
branche and  Spinoza.  One  of  the  worst  features  of  the 
Hegelian  mode  of  looking  at  the  history  of  speculation 
comes  out  here.  Assuming  that  speculative  thought  de- 
velops necessarily  through  a series  of  specified  moments, 
it  must  either  find  the  single  moment  in  a given  sys- 
tem or  reject  the  system  as  unspeculative.  The  result 
of  this  method  is,  on  the  one  hand,  an  attempt  to  make 
a system  express  one  of  the  moments;  or,  on  the  other, 
arrogantly  to  pass  by  the  system  as  of  no  account.  We 

* All  that  is  stated  here  will  be  found  proved  and  illustrated  in 
the  Appendix  to  the  present  volume,  Notes  I.,  II.,  and  VI.  These  are 
now  reproduced  exactly  as  they  appeared  in  the  Appendix  to  the 
Translation  of  The  Meditations , published  in  1853.  The  information 
therein  contained,  and  the  relative  passages,  have  since  been  gener- 
ally utilized  by  writers  on  Descartes  and  Cartesianism ; and  not  un- 
frequently  the  quotations  are  credited  to  those  who  thus  make  use 
of  them  as  introduced  for  the  first  time  into  our  Cartesian  literature. 

fHis  writings  appeared  from  1674  to  1715.  Spinoza  lived  from 
1632-1677.  His  writings  appeared  from  1663  to  1677.  Malebranche, 
as  in  some  respects  nearer  in  doctrine  to  Descartes,  is  first  consid- 
ered- 


INTRODUCTION 


59 


have  thus  frequently  instead  of  * pure  thought  ® pure 
phantasy  in  dealing  with  a system  of  philosophy,  and  a 
willful  blindness  to  the  facts  of  history  and  experience. 
In  the  case  of  Descartes  the  Hegelian  mistake  is  two- 
fold. It  is  wrongly  assumed  that  the  philosophy  of  Des- 
cartes represents  a single  thought,  or  a single  moment 
of  thought,  and  it  either  incorrectly  or  inadequately  de- 
scribes the  main  thought  which  animates  his  philosophy. 

With  Descartes,  according  to  Hegel,  we  have  to  re- 
nounce every  prejudgment  in  order  to  gain  a pure  be- 
ginning. The  spirit  of  the  philosophy  of  Descartes  is 
consciousness  as  the  unity  of  thought  and  being.  The 
<(  I ® in  the  philosophy  of  Descartes  has  the  meaning  of 
thought,  not  the  individuality  ( Einzelnheit ) of  self-con- 
sciousness. Descartes  appeals  to  consciousness  for  his 
first  principle ; but  he  only  naively  gets  at  the  consequences 
of  it,  or  at  least  at  the  propositions  of  philosophy.  He 
does  not  at  first  properly  state  the  principle  out  of  which 
the  whole  content  ( Inhalt ) of  philosophy  is  to  be  derived. 
The  identity  of  being  and  thought, — altogether  the  most 
interesting  idea  of  modern  times, — Descartes  has  not 
farther  proved,  but  for  it  has  singly  and  alone  appealed 
to  consciousness,  and  provisionally  placed  it  in  the  front. 
For  with  Descartes  the  necessity  is  not  in  any  way  pres- 
ent to  develop  difference  out  of  the  <(  I think.®  Fichte 
first  proceeded  to  this,  and  out  of  this  point  of  absolute 
certainty  to  derive  all  determinations.  Then  of  course 
we  must  expect  to  find  that  Descartes  takes  being  in  its 
wholly  positive  sense,  and  has  no  conception  that  it  is 
the  negative  of  self-consciousness.  Then  there  is  constant 
talk  of  the  pure  consciousness  contained  in  the  concrete 

* I.  ® And  Descartes  is  criticised  in  respect  that  the  cer- 
tainty of  self-consciousness  does  not  properly  pass  over 
to  truth,  or  the  determined.  This  passing  over  is  done 

* externally  ® and  reflectively  only.  Consciousness  does 
not  determine  itself. 

In  plain  language,  the  whole  basis  and  method  of 
Descartes  are  criticised  from  an  assumption  that  human 
knowledge  is  possible  from  a mere  universal  or  abstract 
something  called  pure  thought,  or  the  pure  consciousness 
of  the  (( I,® — above  altogether,  in  the  first  place  at 
least,  ordinary  consciousness  or  knowledge.  This  system 
is  not  only  unvindicable  in  itself  and  its  principles,  but 


6o 


INTRODUCTION 


it  has  really  no  connection,  logical  or  historical,  with  the 
true  system  of  Descartes.  Nothing,  for  example,  can  be 
more  out  of  place  historically  than  to  connect  Descartes 
with  Fichte,  or  to  suppose  that  the  system  of  the  latter 
is  any  way  a fair  logical  evolution  from  that  of  the 
former.  It  is  even  ludicrous  to  set  up  this  so-called 
Hegelian  development  of  <(  reason, M and  by  virtue  of  the 
gathered  power  of  a word,  whose  connotation  is  alto- 
gether different  from  the  Hegelian,  to  ask  us  to  renounce 
the  experiential  method  of  Descartes  and  nearly  the 
whole  of  subsequent  modern  philosophy.  It  is  a com- 
plete mistake  historically  to  assume  that  the  moment  of 
Cartesianism  is  consciousness, — spoken  of  in  the  vague 
generality  with  which  Hegel  deals  with  it.  The  conscious- 
ness of  Descartes  is  a self-guaranteeing  principle, — which 
is  a great  deal  more  than  Hegel  has  vindicated  or  can  vin- 
dicate for  his  Pure  Being.  In  truth,  the  first  principle 
of  Descartes  is  not  consciousness  properly  speaking,  but 
self-consciousness, — tested  experimentally  and  found  self- 
guaranteeing. Self-consciousness  was  never  more  truly 
or  fully  appreciated  than  in  the  system  of  Descartes.  It 
is,  if  anything  is,  his  most  vitalizing  thought.  And  if 
the  system  of  Descartes  be  one  thoroughly  of  self- 
consciousness,  neither  that  of  Kant  nor  that  of  Fichte 
can  be  so  described.  The  basis  of  Fichte’s  system  is  an 
absolute  Ego,  of  which  the  Ego  of  consciousness  is  at 
best  phenome  . d;  and  the  real  Ego  of  Kant  is  wholly 
noumenal,  not  in  phenomenal  consciousness  at  all,  while 
his  phenomenal  Ego  has  but  a generic  or  logical  identity. 

Nor  do  later  attempts  to  find  the  one  thought  of  Des- 
cartes fare  better.  To  say  absolutely  that  Descartes 
stated  a thought  which  was  legitimately  developed  by 
Malebranche  and  Spinoza  is  thoroughly  misleading. 
There  are  points  in  Descartes  which  were  fairly  enough 
developed  by  these  later  thinkers;  there  are  others  which 
were  not.  There  are  important  points  in  the  philosophy 
of  Descartes  which  were  not  touched  by  either.  Des- 
cartes thought  was  manifold;  and  so  must  be  its  develop- 
ments. 

The  aim  of  Descartes  was,  no  doubt,  to  find  absolutely 
ultimate  truth  and  certainty,  as  guaranteed  by  the  re- 
flective analysis  of  consciousness  — to  obtain  therein  a 
criterion  of  truth  and  falsehood  — and,  if  possible,  to 


INTRODUCTION 


61 


develop  by  demonstration  from  the  single  ultimate  fact, 
the  truth  about  the  world  and  God, — and  thus  to  sub- 
ordinate and  correlate  the  truths  of  philosophy.  But  the 
peculiarity  of  Descartes  was  not,  as  we  have  seen,  so 
much  this  aim  — which  is  the  common  one  of  specula- 
tive systems  — as  his  method  of  seeking  it,  in  an  exam- 
ination of  consciousness,  and  finding  it  in  the  principle 
of  limit  to  conscious  thought.  It  is  this  point  of  limit 
which,  in  a speculative  view,  is  the  peculiarity  of  Car- 
tesianism;  and  it  is  this  exactly  which,  in  the  so-called 
evolution  of  his  thought,  Malebranche  partially  and  un- 
consciously, and  Spinoza  wholly  and  consciously,  sought 
to  reverse.  If  the  reversal  of  a position,  and,  I should 
add,  the  illegitimate  reversal,  is  a development,  we  have 
the  highest  reach  of  Cartesianism  in  Spinoza.  Spinoza 
developed  Descartes  by  amending  the  formula  cogito  ergo 
sum,  into  cogito  ergo  non  sum. 

The  truth  is,  that  both  Malebranche  and  Spinoza  seized 
on  those  subordinate  points  in  the  philosophy  of  Descartes 
which  tended  to  lower  human  activity  and  personality, 
and  in  different  ways  sought  to  ascribe  all  real  efficacy 
or  casuality  to  a Power  above  and  outside  of  man. 
Malebranche  certainly  kept  up  the  conception  of  a Per- 
sonal Deity  as  the  Supreme  Cause,  though  inconsistently 
with  his  conception  of  Deity  as  mere  indeterminate  or 
unrestricted  being.  Spinoza  held  by  an  Indeterminate 
Substance.  It  is  doubtful,  however,  whether  Malebranche, 
in  virtually  annihilating  human  personality  in  experience, 
had  any  right  thereafter  to  speak  of  a Divine  Personality; 
and  certainly  Spinoza  precluded  himself  even  from  the 
conception  of  a Finite  Personality  by  placing  at  the  source 
of  the  universe  of  Being  mere  Indeterminate  Substance. 
There  would  be  an  inconsistency  on  the  doctrine  of  either 
in  making  this  Divine  or  Substantial  Power  all,  and  at 
the  same  time  holding  Man  to  be  something  — either  a 
spontaneous  agent,  a responsible  power,  or  even  a being 
in  any  way  resembling  the  living  reality  of  human  con- 
sciousness. 

On  one  cardinal  point  of  Descartes  — the  knowledge  of 
mind  in  consciousness,  and  the  corollary  that  the  soul  is 
better  and  more  clearly  known  than  the  body  — Male- 
branche entirely  differs  from  him.  Malebranche  maintains 
that  we  have  no  idea  of  the  mind,  and  therefore  no  clear 


62 


INTRODUCTION 


knowledge  of  it.  We  know  it  only  through  internal 
sentiment  — that  is,  consciousness;  but  we  have  no 
proper  idea  of  it.  Our  knowledge  of  body  or  extension, 
on  the  other  hand,  is  by  means  of  idea ; and  hence  it  is  a 
clearer  knowledge  than  that  of  the  soul.  As  if,  forsooth, 
in  the  consciousness  of  extension,  the  extension  or  object 
were  clearer  than  the  conscious  act  of  apprehension.  We 
know,  however,  by  this  inner  feeling  or  consciousness, 
that  the  soul  is;  but  we  do  not  know  what  it  is.  His 
practical  test  of  the  superior  clearness  of  our  knowledge 
of  extension  is,  that  extension  being  in  idea,  we  can  evolve 
or  deduce  from  the  idea  of  it  alone  all  its  numerous 
properties  and  relations:  whereas  from  the  so-called  idea 
of  the  soul  we  can  deduce  none  of  its  properties  — either 
pleasure,  pain,  or  any  other.  Malebranche  thus,  instead 
of  advancing  on  Descartes  in  a legitimate  and  necessary 
manner,  simply  deviated  wholly  from  the  spirit  and  pro- 
cedure of  the  Method.  He  regarded  a method  of  deduc- 
tion and  demonstration  as  the  only  truly  philosophical. 
He  was  wholly  misled  by  the  analogy  of  mathematics, 
as  Descartes  himself  partly  was,  and  sought  to  deal  with 
the  range  of  knowledge,  as  a geometer  may  deal  with  the 
properties  of  space  which  he  borrows  and  defines.  But 
there  is  no  true  analogy.  Given  space,  we  can  evolve 
its  properties,  for  we  need  not  proceed  beyond  itself, 
save  by  way  of  limit,  and  limit  of  space  is  itself  space. 
Given  an  abstract  Ego,  it  must  always  remain  such. 
Given  a conscious  Ego,  it  is  me-conscious,  and  conscious 
in  one  definite  way.  And  let  this  be  knowledge  of  an 
object,  we  cannot  proceed  merely  from  this  to  evolve 
either  desire  or  volition,  or  any  property  specifically  dis- 
tinct from  knowledge.  We  must  wait  the  development 
of  consciousness  itself,  for  our  knowledge,  even  concep- 
tion, of  those  new  modes.  We  can  no  more  do  this  than 
the  physical  philosopher  can,  from  the  sight  of  a definite 
kind  and  quantity  of  motion,  predict  its  passage  into  light 
or  heat,  before  he  has  any  experience  of  such  a tran- 
sition. The  light  or  heat  are  sensations  of  a specifically 
different  kind  from  the  modes  of  motion  regarded  as 
objects  of  vision.  And  these,  therefore,  it  is  impossible 
a priori  to  predict  — impossible  even  a priori  to  con- 
ceive. Malebranche  shows  himself  distinctly  aware 
of  this  in  relation  to  mind.  (<  The  soul  knows  not 


INTRODUCTION 


63 


that  it  is  capable  of  this  or  that  sensation  by  any  view 
it  takes  of  itself,  but  by  experience ; on  the  other 
hand,  it  knows  that  extension  is  capable  of  an  infinite 
number  of  figures  by  the  idea  representative  of  exten- 
sion. . . . We  cannot  give  a definition  which  shall 

explain  the  modifications  of  the  soul.  . . . It  is  evi- 

dent that  if  a man  had  never  seen  color  nor  felt  heat, 
he  could  not  be  made  to  understand  those  sensations  by 
any  definition.®  But  while  thus  speaking,  Malebranche 
discredited  entirely  the  philosophical  method, — the  spirit 
of  reflection  and  the  analysis  of  consciousness  on  which 
Descartes  relied  for  the  foundations  of  his  philosophy, 
and  which  were  destined  to  bring  men  face  to  face  with 
the  real  facts  of  mental  life.  Malebranche,  in  so  doing, 
left  himself  no  basis  for  his  own  deduction,  and  no  guar- 
anteed law  or  method  of  deduction. 

The  alleged  advance  on  Descartes,  or  carrying  out  of 
Cartesian  principles  by  Malebranche,  is  simple,  and  in 
many  respects  irrelevant  enough.  Descartes’  dualism  of 
thought  and  extension  was  his  preliminary  difficulty  and 
puzzle.  How  can  these  disparate  substances  be  connected 
in  knowledge  ? Instead  of  recognizing  the  artificial 
nature  of  the  difficulty,  he  admitted  it  as  real,  and  sought 
to  solve  it.  The  soul  can  but  perceive  that  which  is 
immediately  united  with  it.  Things  that  are  corporeal 
cannot  be  immediately  perceived.  Everybody,  it  seems, 
admits  this.  And  what  is  the  solution  ? Sense  and 
imagination  give  us  one  set  of  modes  of  consciousness  or 
thoughts  about  this  extended  world.  These  are  sen- 
timents— in  a word,  sensations  — such  as  light,  color,  heat, 
pleasure,  and  pain.  These  are  not  in  body;  they  tell 
us  nothing  of  its  nature;  they  are  relative  simply  to  our 
bodily  organization.  They  have  a reality  only  in  us,  yet 
we  do  not  produce  them.  They  are  caused  irk  us  by  God 
himself;  he  is  tlm  only  and  the  efficient  cause  of  our 
sensations.  Because,  according  to  the  view  of  Male- 
branche, God  is  the  only  real  and  efficient  cause  in  the 
universe. 

De  la  Forge,  Cordemoy,  and  Geulincx,  had  more  or 
less  anticipated  the  doctrine  of  Occasional  Causes.  They 
all  felt,  as  Malebranche  himself  did,  that  invariable 
sequence  or  correspondence  is  no  true  causality.  It  is  a 
proof  simply  that  causality  is  in  operation;  but  it  is  not 


64 


INTRODUCTION 


the  causality  itself.  They  had  applied  this  doctrine  to 
the  connection  between  mind  and  body.  It  was  reserved 
for  Malebranche  to  apply  it  universally  to  the  relations 
of  all  created  things  or  phenomena  of  the  universe.  No 
finite  being,  according  to  Malebranche,  be  it  mind  or 
body  or  extra-organic  object,  can  act  on  any  other  with  a 
true  efficiency.  There  is  harmony  or  correspondence  in 
their  manifestations,  but  that  is  all.  God  alone  is  the 
efficient  cause  at  work  in  the  world.  Things  are  occa- 
sions; their  manifestations  are  subject  to  definite  laws  or 
decrees;  the  Divine  Power  is  the  only  sufficient  agency 
in  the  world, — whether  it  relate  to  the  production  of 
perceptions,  or  the  realization  of  volitions.  Mind  is 
purely  passive,  whether  there  be  organic  change  in  the 
body,  or  whether  even  there  be  resolution.  The  nervous 
action,  on  which  the  realization  of  volition  depends,  is 
wholly  unknown  to  us.  We  have  thus  no  power  over  it; 
no  more  power  than  we  have  over  the  organic  impres- 
sions which  are  the  occasion  of  sensation.  God  is  all  in 
all,  — operating  efficiently  in  and  through  all.  A bad 
psychology,  or  rather  an  unwarrantable  deduction,  had 
thus  destroyed  the  activity  of  knowledge  and  the  reality 
of  freedom  and  the  force  of  personality. 

But  we  have  more  than  sensations;  we  have  ideas. 
These  are  in  the  sphere  of  the  Pure  Understanding. 
They  are  the  immediate  objects  of  the  act  of  perception ; 
and  they  are  distinct  from  bodies.  Extension,  figure, 
motion  — these  are  not  sensations ; they  are  ideas.  (<  In 
perceiving  anything  of  a sensible  nature,  two  things 
occur  in  our  perception  — Sensation  and  Pure  Idea.  The 
sensation  is  a modification  of  our  soul,  and  God  causes 
it  in  us.  . . . The  idea,  which  is  joined  to  the  sensa- 

tion, is  in  God;  and  we  see  it,  because  it  pleases  him  to 
reveal  it  to  us.  God  connects  the  sensation  with  the 
idea,  when  the  objects  are  present.”  But  whence  come 
ideas  ? Malebranche  exhausts  the  possibilities  of  their 
origin  by  a comprehensive  statement.  The  possible  ex- 
planations are  as  follow:  (i.)  Ideas  come  from  bodies. 

(2.)  The  soul  has  the  power  of  producing  them.  (3.) 
God  produces  them  in  the  soul  at  its  creation.  (4.)  God 
produces  them  whenever  we  think  an  object.  (5.)  The 
soul  has  or  sees  in  itself  all  the  perfections  of  bodies. 
(6.)  The  soul  is  united  to  an  all-perfect  being  who  em- 


INTRODUCTION 


65 

braces  the  ideas  or  perfections  of  created  things.  He 
concludes  by  adopting  the  last  solution  that  the  soul  is 
united  to  a supremely  Perfect  Being,  who  contains  the 
ideas  of  all  created  beings.  It  therefore  sees  all  ideas  in 
God.  The  finite  is  in  the  bosom  of  the  infinite.  He  is 
the  place  of  spirits,  as  space  is  the  place  of  bodies;  and 
we  are  immediately  conscious  of  the  ideas  of  the  quali- 
ties of  body  in  God  himself. 

Yet  we  have  a higher  assurance  of  the  reality  of  the 
idea  than  of  the  quality  or  body  which  the  idea  repre- 
sents. The  idea  is  external  to  us,  yet  it  is  surely  known 
in  God;  but  the  world  of  material  reality  which  the 
ideas  represent  is  only  a probable  inference  from  the  real- 
ity of  the  ideas  themselves.  <(  It  is  not  necessary  that 
there  should  be  anything  without  like  to  the  idea.  ® The 
only  reality  which  is  the  object  of  perception  — that  is, 
of -which  we  are  immediately  cognizant  and  certain  — is 
the  idea  itself.  And  we  must  not  suppose  that  these 
ideas  are  identical  with  the  Divine  substance  or  essence ; 
they  express  only  certain  of  his  relations  to  his  creatures. 
The  consciousness,  accordingly,  of  me,  the  finite,  in  ap- 
prehending those  ideas,  would  be  inaccurately  described 
as  identical  with  the  Divine  consciousness.  In  knowing 
those  ideas,  I am  as  far  from  the  real  inner  essence  of 
the  Divine  consciousness,  as  I am  from  the  reality  of  the 
thing  represented.  He  says,  <(it  is  not  properly  to  see 
God,  to  see  the  creatures  in  him.  It  is  not  to  see  his 
essence  to  see  the  essence  of  creatures  in  his  sub- 
stance.® All  that  can  be  alleged  is,  that  I the  percipi- 
ent and  Deity  have  a common  object  of  knowledge  in 
the  idea. 

So  far  we  can  attach  a meaning  to  this  system.  But 
the  question  arises,  what  does  this  vision  of  all  things 
in  God  precisely  mean  ? Does  it  refer  to  the  perception 
of  the  qualities  of  body,  however  numerous,  passing, 
contingent  these  may  be  in  time  and  space  ? Are  the 
ideas  perceived  in  God  as  numerous  as  the  actual  quali- 
ties or  things  of  experience  ? Then,  what  becomes  of 
the  unity  and  indivisibility  of  Deity  ? What  is  he  in  this 
case  but  another  name  for  the  sum  of  our  experience  ? 
What  is  he  but  peopled  space  and  time  ? Or  does  the 
vision  in  Deity  refer  merely  to  the  laws  and  types  of 
things  under  which  perception  and  thought  are  possible  ? 

5 


66 


INTRODUCTION 


Malebranche  vacillates  on  this  point.  But  he  was  finally 
driven  to  the  latter  conception.  His  idea  in  God  came 
to  mean  the  essence  or  type  of  the  thing;  and  he  names 
it  intelligible  extension.  It  is  this  idea  which  is  in  God, 
and  which  we  see  in  God.  Along  with  it  God  determines 
in  us  certain  passing  sensations  — such  as  color,  sound, 
heat  or  cold.  These  are  in  our  consciousness,  though 
confused : the  idea  is  in  God.  It  is  the  permanent  essence. 
But  what  is  this  intelligible  extension  ? Is  it  extension 
— that  is,  space,  without  limit  or  figure  — conceived  as 
infinite  ? Is  this  identical  with  the  ideas  of  our  percep- 
tion ? If  so,  how  ? Is  this  the  world  we  are  supposed 
to  perceive  in  the  representative  idea  ? The  idea  of  the 
figure,  definite,  limited  ? Again,  what  is  the  connection 
between  this  ideal  and  the  real  extension  ? Between 
space  conceived  as  empty,  and  space  perceived  as  filled 
with  matter  ? The  truth  is,  that  such  a position  cannot 
be  vindicated  consistently  with  the  facts  of  the  intui- 
tional consciousness.  It  means  simply  abstract  or  void 
space,  and  this  is  as  far  from  the  reality  of  the  world, 
as  possibility  is  from  actuality,  or  absolute  monotony  from 
the  variety  of  experience. 

As  to  the  nature  of  our  knowledge  of  God,  Malebranche 
differed  in  one  important  respect  from  Descartes;  though 
whether  it  was  an  advance  or  the  reverse  is  matter  of 
question.  Descartes  distinguished  the  idea  from  the  reality 
of  the  supremely  perfect,  and  made  the  reality  an  infer- 
ence from  the  idea.  But  just  as  Malebranche  held  that 
the  soul  is  not  known  through  idea,  he  held  that  Deity, 
or  the  Being  of  Beings,  the  supremely  Perfect,  is  not 
known  by  us  through  idea.  It  is  not  conceivable  that 
anything  created  can  represent  the  infinite;  that  being 
without  restriction,  the  immense  being,  can  be  perceived 
by  an  idea,  that  is,  by  a particular  being  and  a being 
different  from  the  universal  and  infinite  being.  One  might 
suppose  that  in  this  case  our  knowledge  of  the  supremely 
Perfect  would  be  obscure,  like  our  knowledge  of  the  soul 
itself.  But  no.  The  soul  is  immediately  united  with  the 
substance  of  God  himself;  we  thus  know  him  as  he  is 
in  himself.  On  occasion  of  every  apprehension  of  sen- 
sation even,  or  of  bodily  movement,  we  know  the  infinite. 
■'If  I think  the  infinite,  the  infinite  is.®  This  is  the  sole 
demonstration  of  Malebranche.  Yet  even  while  he  seems 


INTRODUCTION 


67 


to  unite  the  finite  consciousness  to  the  divine  substance, 
in  order  that,  as  more  than  finite,  it  may  know  this  sub- 
stance or  itself,  it  turns  out  that  it  does  not  wholly  know 
the  substance;  our  apprehension  is  not  infinite;  we  are, 
therefore,  less  than  the  infinite  is. 

This,  then,  is  another  and  higher  vision  in  God.  The 
soul  is  now  immediately  cognizant  of  God  in  his  essence ; 
and,  though  only  in  a limited  way,  we  thus  see  the 
infinite  perfection  of  Deity  and  their  relations.  We  see 
ideas,  principles  eternal  and  immutable ; we  perceive  also 
truths  — that  is,  the  relations  of  those  ideas.  This  is 
Reason  — which  is  absolutely  impersonal  — common  to 
all  intelligences,  human  and  divine.  It  is  manifested  in 
the  form  of  speculative  or  metaphysical  laws,  and  in 
that  of  practical  or  moral  laws.  The  former  are  modi- 
fications of  the  idea  of  quantity,  subsisting  between  ideas 
of  the  same  nature ; the  latter  of  perfection  or  graduated 
order  among  beings  of  different  natures. 

Malebranche  here  made  an  advance  beyond  Descartes. 
The  latter  had  founded  the  distinctions  of  true  and 
false,  right  and  wrong,  beautiful  and  deformed,  on  the 
mere  will  of  God.  Malebranche  very  properly  departed 
from  this  position,  and  founded  those  distinctions  on  the 
intelligence  of  Deity  itself.  The  one  supreme  thing  in 
the  universe  is  the  sovereignty  of  the  Reason.  It  bends 
to  the  will  neither  of  man  nor  of  God.  But  there  is 
nothing  to  show  that  he  connects  the  doctrine  of  the 
Impersonal  Reason  with  the  hypothesis  — the  identity  of 
the  human  consciousness  with  the  divine  substance  or 
consciousness.  This  is  not  at  all  necessary  to  his  doc- 
trine, and  it  is  not  legitimately  involved  in  it.  On  the 
contrary,  our  knowledge  of  the  infinite  is  with  him  never 
coextensive  with  the  reality.  The  fair  issue  of  the  doc- 
trine of  Malebranche  regarding  the  infinite,  which,  to  be 
intelligible,  means  the  principle  of  universal  truths,  is 
that  there  is  a common  knowledge  between  man  and 
God.  But  to  say  that  the  consciousness  I am  and  ex- 
perience, is  the  consciousness  of  God,  or  God’s  conscious- 
ness of  himself,  is  to  assume  this  convertibility,  and  it 
is  either  to  abolish  me  altogether,  or  to  abolish  God; 
for  it  gives  me  a God  convertible  with  all  the  conditions 
and  limitations  in  essence  and  in  time  of  a temporal 
consciousness. 


68 


INTRODUCTION 


The  utmost  identity  predicable  in  such  a case  is  a 
merely  logical  or  generic  identity.  The  human  and  the 
divine  possess  common  laws  of  knowledge.  This  no 
more  proves  the  identity  of  the  human  and  divine  intel- 
ligence, as  existences,  than  the  community  of  the  laws  of 
knowledge  among  human  intelligents  destroys  the  in- 
dividuality and  variety  of  the  self-hood  of  each.  The 
whole  question  as  to  the  relation  of  me,  the  being  in 
time,  to  an  Eternal  Being,  stands  just  where  it  was. 


X.  Spinoza  (1632-1677)  — Relations  to  Descartes. 

Leibnitz,  speaking  of  the  philosophy  of  Descartes,  said 
it  was  the  antechamber  of  the  truth.  At  another  time, 
he  tells  us  that  Spinozism  is  an  exaggerated  Cartesian- 
ism  (le  Spinozisme  est  un  Cartdsianisme  ontri).  Again, 
he  says,  <(  Spinoza  has  cultivated  only  certain  seeds  of  the 
philosophy  of  Descartes. w There  can,  I think,  be  no 
doubt  that  Spinoza  was  stimulated  to  speculation  by 
Descartes;  and  also  that  he  found  in  Descartes’  writings 
certain  points  which,  when  exclusively  considered,  tended 
to  suggest  his  own  doctrines  as  a complement  or  develop- 
ment. But  that  he  truly  interpreted  the  main  and  char- 
acteristic features  of  the  philosophy  of  Descartes,  or 
carried  out  its  proper  tendency,  or  logically  added  to  it 
certain  results,  I emphatically  deny. 

In  the  first  place,  Descartes’  philosophy  is  by  method 
distinctly  one  of  intuition  and  experience.  No  one  can 
read  the  Method  without  feeling  that  the  writer  is  seek- 
ing relief  from  scholasticism,  and  that  you  have  done 
with  the  Schoolmen  — with  their  abstractions  and  their 
deductions.  The  healthy  branch  of  modern  experimental 
thought  is  there.  You  feel  it  in  the  cogito  ergo  sum  — 
in  the  criterion  of  clearness  and  distinctness  of  ideas  — 
and  particularly  in  his  first  proof  of  the  existence  of  God, 
founded  on  the  fact  of  the  personal  existence  and  yet 
imperfection  of  being  revealed  in  human  consciousness. 
But  Spinoza  absolutely  disdains  experience  and  observa- 
tion. To  him  a conviction  or  fact  of  consciousness,  how- 
ever deeply  or  thoroughly  tested,  by  analytic  reflection 
is  nothing.  He  no  doubt  speaks  of  his  philosophical 


INTRODUCTION 


69 


method  as  reason  founded  on  immediate  intuition;  but 
when  we  come  to  examine  his  intuition,  it  turns  out  to 
be  merely  definition  — and  arbitrary  definition.  There  is 
no  analysis  of  consciousness  whatever  — no  founding  on 
intuition  or  fact.  It  is  the  method  of  Pure  Reason,  all 
through  — a return,  disguise  it  as  you  may,  to  the  method 
of  scholastic  abstraction  and  deduction.  Spinoza  pro- 
fesses to  deduce  the  facts  of  consciousness,  and  con- 
sciousness itself,  from  the  infinite  substance  and  its 
attributes.  And  he  holds,  with  Malebranche,  that  knowl- 
edge through  consciousness  and  of  the  facts  of  con- 
sciousness is  obscure  and  confused.  Descartes  no  doubt 
aimed  at  deduction,  but  it  was  a deduction  professedly 
founded  on  facts  of  consciousness  as  the  clearest  sphere 
of  human  knowledge.  At  the  same  time,  he  exagger- 
ated the  importance  and  the  use  of  it;  and  there  is  an 
obvious  tendency,  especially  in  the  Principles , to  super- 
sede his  original  or  intuitive  method  by  the  demonstrative 
or  deductive, — to  fall  away,  in  fact,  from  the  investiga- 
tion of  the  real  unto  the  shadowy  sphere  of  the  abstract. 
At  the  same  time,  the  order  of  the  Principles  may  fairly 
enough  be  regarded  as  merely  a synthetic  way  of  putting 
the  results  of  a foregone  analysis.  If  Spinozism  be  re- 
garded as  in  method  a development  of  Descartes,  it  was 
not  of  his  original  and  fruitful  method,  but  of  his  later 
unfaithfulness  in  the  use  of  that  method. 

Descartes’  alienation  from  his  original  method  of  con- 
scious verification  arose  mainly  from  his  assuming  that 
whatever  is  clearly  and  distinctly  conceived  in  the  idea  of 
an  object  may  be  predicated  as  really  true  of  that  object. 
This,  with  all  its  obvious  fallacy  and  confusion,  was 
adopted  by  Spinoza,  and  carried  to  exaggeration  by  him, 
with  a thorough  indifference  to  the  psychological  method 
of  Descartes,  the  only  means  of  giving  the  idea  truth,  or 
relevancy  to  fact.  With  such  a postulate,  it  is  easy  to  see 
how  Spinoza  proceeded.  We  have  only  to  get  the  prelim- 
inary idea  of  all  things  as  clear  and  distinct,  and  then 
from  this  we  can  readily  evolve  all  subsequent  ideas  or 
conceptions.  The  universe  will  then  be  comprehended  by 
us  not  in  its  parts  merely,  but  as  a whole.  The  begin- 
ning of  all  will  be  grasped,  and  each  part  of  the  whole 
will  be  apprehended  in  its  relation  to  the  preceding  part, 
and  thus  to  the  first  of  things.  It  will,  accordingly, 


70 


INTRODUCTION 


be  known  truly  for  what  it  is,  because  it  will  be  known 
in  all  its  actual  relations  to  preceding  facts,  and  in 
all  its  possible  relations  to  succeeding  developments. 
This  is,  no  doubt,  a very  fine  conception  of  the  aim  of 
human  knowledge.  Whether  it  is  merely  a dream  or  a 
reality  is,  of  course,  a matter  of  argument.  If  we  could 
reach  a knowledge  of  the  absolute  totality  of  being,  or  of 
the  universe  at  any  given  point  in  its  development,  we 
should  gain  a knowledge  which  is  absolutely  convertible 
with  all  possible  knowledge  in  each  given  stage;  and 
if  we  could  thus  follow  the  evolutions  we  should  make 
our  knowledge  convertible  with,  or  representative  of,  the 
whole  of  actual  and  possible  being.  But  such  an  ideal  of 
knowledge  is  impossible,  unless  on  the  assumption  that 
the  totality  of  being  can  be  first  grasped  by  definition, 
as  figure  in  mathematics,  and  its  various  possible  combi- 
nations therefrom  evolved.  And  this  is  merely  to  assume 
in  method  or  premises  what  requires  to  be  proved  in  re- 
sult or  conclusion.  What  would  be  our  test  of  the  com- 
pleteness or  adequacy  of  our  definition  ? What,  then, 
would  be  the  guarantee  of  the  totality  of  our  knowledge 
in  any  given  stage  ? The  assumption  of  a casual  relation 
between  the  stages  does  not  help  us,  for  we  have  to  ascer- 
tain in  the  first  stage  the  totality  of  the  cause.  And  here, 
even  on  Spinoza’s  own  admission,  the  doctrine  must  be 
held  to  break  down.  For  while  the  first  substance  possesses 
an  infinity  of  attributes,  of  these  we  knew  only  two  — ex- 
tension and  thought.  It  is  thus  utterly  impossible  for  us, 
through  the  grasp  of  these  partial  forms  of  being,  to  con- 
ceive all  being,  and  follow  the  evolutions  of  its  totality. 
This  would  be  merely  an  illogical  identification  of  the  part 
with  the  whole, — reasoning,  in  fact,  from  the  finitude  of 
our  knowledge  to  the  infinitude  of  things. 

Of  course,  Spinoza  grandly  distinguishes  this  demonstra- 
tive method  of  knowledge  from  that  of  vulgar  opinion 
and  belief.  This  is  partial  and  abstract,  and  worth  noth- 
ing. It  does  not  see  the  connections  of  things,  and  thus 
fails  of  their  truth.  It  proceeds  without  examination  or 
reflection.  It  accepts  common  opinions.  Spinoza’s  whole 
writing  of  this  sort  has  been  relegated  long  ago  to  the 
limbo  of  misconception,  and  should  have  been  left  there. 
It  has  been  stated  over  and  over  again  by  the  opponents 
of  a demonstrative  system  of  philosophy,  that  the  alter- 


INTRODUCTION 


7i 


native  alone  conceived  by  Spinoza,  and  alone  contem- 
plated by  those  who  virtually  accept  his  method,  is  a 
simple  caricature  of  the  method  which  they  follow.  It 
has  been  shown  repeatedly  that  the  common  opinions  of 
mankind  ( or  the  common  sense  of  mankind,  as  it  is 
called),  form  simply  the  materials  of  philosophical  analy- 
sis and  criticism.  Hamilton,  for  example,  tells  us  most 
explicitly  that  philosophy  is  not  to  be  constituted  by  (<  an 
appeal  to  the  undeveloped  beliefs  of  the  irreflective 
many,”  but  (< through  a critical  analysis  of  those  beliefs.” 
We  may  therefore  set  aside  as  utterly  beside  the  point, 
as,  in  fact,  due  either  to  ignorance  or  perversion,  the 
misrepresentations  of  the  method  of  the  psychological 
school  constantly  made  by  followers  of  Spinoza  and  Hegel. 
The  question  as  to  whether  we  can  grasp  the  universe 
as  a whole  of  development  cannot  even  be  fairly  ap- 
proached, until  the  upholders  of  the  affirmative  position 
show  that  they  understand  the  nature  of  the  psycholog- 
ical method. 

What  gives  a somewhat  ludicrous  aspect  to  this  mis- 
representation of  the  psychological  method,  is  the  fact 
that  when  we  come  to  examine  closely  certain  points  in 
the  deductive  systems,  we  find  that,  while  despising 
psychology,  they  have  really  nothing  to  give  us  except 
this  very  common  sense  of  mankind  which  they  so» 
haughtily  reject.  Spinoza,  for  example,  the  ideal  of  the 
man  who  had  a contempt  for  common  sense  and  all  its 
accessories,  is  found  after  all  to  be  dependent  on  it  for 
his  selection  of  the  fundamental  notions  of  his  system. 
It  appears  that  in  his  review  of  the  notions  current 
among  mankind  there  are  some  which  are  inadequate 
and  confused;  others  which  are  clear  and  distinct. 
Among  the  former  class  are  Being,  Something,  Freedom, 
Final  Cause;  while  among  the  clear  and  distinct  are 
Cause,  Substance,  God,  or  the  Infinite  Substance.  When 
we  seek  for  some  sort  of  test  of  this  apparently  arbi- 
trary selection,  we  find  that  the  former  are  relegated  to 
unreality  and  untruthfulness,  because  they  are  notiones 
universales  merely  — meaning,  possibly,  generalizations. 
But  tne  others,  such  as  Substance  and  Cause,  are  held 
to  be  clear  and  true,  because  they  are  notiones  communes ; 
and  when  we  ask  what  the  meaning  of  this  is,  we  find 
that  they  are  something  common  to  all  minds  and  all 


72 


INTRODUCTION 


things.  What  is  this  but  an  appeal  to  the  common-sense 
of  mankind,  and  in  its  unscientific  and  irreflective  form  ? 
If,  moreover,  we  apply  the  test  of  community  in  the 
things  to  the  relegated  notions  of  Being  or  Something, 
it  will  certainly  occur  to  us  that  the  distinction  is  one 
rather  of  caprice  and  petulance  than  of  logical  or  con- 
sistent thought.  Freedom  and  Final  Cause  stood  rather 
in  the  way  of  his  deduction;  by  all  means,  therefore,  let 
them  be  set  aside  as  obscure  and  confused.  The  truth 
is,  that  any  deductive  system  is  nothing  more  than  a 
mere  hypothesis,  or  has  no  basis  higher  than  unsifted 
data,  so  long  as  it  is  not  grounded  on  direct  and  com- 
plete pyschological  analysis  of  the  facts. 

But  even  this  misrepresentation  is  comparatively  of 
little  moment  when  we  look  on  the  deductive  systems  — 
such  as  that  of  Spinoza  — in  relation  to  the  full  contents 
of  the  human  consciousness.  It  is  here  the  prin- 
ciple of  their  method  reduces  itself  to  an  absolute  con- 
tradiction. The  data  which  the  method  assumes,  and 
from  which  it  proceeds  to  develop  the  universe  of  being, 
have  no  higher  guarantee  than  those  very  facts  of 
human  consciousness  relating  to  Personality,  Freedom, 
and  Morality,  which  they  undoubtedly  subvert.  It  is 
here  that  the  common  experience  of  mankind,  when 
psychologically  tested  as  fact,  comes  into  collision  with 
the  conclusions  of  the  deductive  system ; and  ere  the 
facts  of  common  experience  are  swept  away,  it  must  be 
shown  that  the  so-called  ideas  of  Substance  and  Cause 
have  any  higher  or  other  guarantee  in  our  consciousness 
than  these  other  ideas,  and  are  entitled  to  override  them. 
What  guarantee  can  any  philosophy  give  for  the  idea  of 
Substance  for  example,  or  even  Pure  Being  or  Pure 
Thought,  which  cannot  be  equally,  even  more,  given  for 
Personality  and  Freedom  ? I do  not  mean  the  Spinozistic 
or  Hegelian  caricatures  of  those  ideas,  but  the  con- 
ceptions of  them  actually  given  or  implied  in  conscious- 
ness. A deductive  system  which  sweeps  away  these  con- 
ceptions must,  in  its  spirit  of  superior  wisdom,  show  how 
mankind,  in  their  whole  history  and  highest  purposes 
and  actions,  have  been  deluded  into  believing  themselves 
as  more  than  the  mere  necessitarian  movements  with 
consciousness  which  Spinoza  and  Hegel  allow  them  to 
be.  But  even  if  it  can  show  this,  it  must  do  it  at  the 


INTRODUCTION 


73 


expense  of  allowing  the  principles  of  moral  action  and 
of  true  speculative  thought,  to  he,  as  a matter  of  fact, 
in  diametrical  contradiction.  When  the  contest  takes 
this  form,  we  know  which  side  must  speedily  go  to  the 
wall. 

But  take  the  method  of  Spinoza  as  a whole.  What  is 
the  assumption  on  which  it  proceeds  ? Entirely  the  geo- 
metric method  of  conception,  borrowed  no  doubt  from 
things  both  latent  and  expressed  in  the  writings  of 
Descartes.  This  means  postulates,  definitions,  and  axioms. 
The  geometrical  definitions  refer  to  one  uniform  idea, 
manifesting  itself  in  various  forms,  but  never  transcend- 
ing itself.  This  conception  is  the  idea  of  extension, 
coexistent  points  or  magnitude.  It  begins  with  the  ele- 
mentary perception  of  point,  or  the  minimum  visibile;  it 
goes  on  to  the  generation  of  line  and  then  of  surface,  or 
what  we  know  ordinarily  as  extension.  Now  we  need 
not  consider  either  the  source  of  the  conceptions  of  point, 
line,  and  surface,  or  the  guarantee  of  them.  It  is  suffi- 
cient for  our  purpose  at  present  to  note  that  these  are 
capable  of  definition,  and  that  the  knowledge  which  ad- 
mits of  being  deduced  from  them,  or  the  notion  at  the 
root  of  'them,  never  passes  beyond  the  initial  conception. 
It  is  extension  of  line  and  surface  at  first;  it  is  this  and 
its  relations  all  through.  In  fact,  we  are  here  dealing 
with  abstractions.  The  definitions  are  abstractions,  or,  if 
you  choose,  constructions  from  data, — elementary  data  of 
sense.  These  data  are  unchangeable,  irreversible  by  us, 
and  hence  they  and  their  relations  may  be  said  to  be 
necessary.  Given  certain  definitions,  we  may,  by  means 
of  postulate  and  axiom,  work  out  the  consequent  truths 
or  deductions  to  their  utmost  result  as  ideal  combinations. 
This  is  the  geometrical  method.  But  is  such  a method 
at  all  possible  either  in  Physics  or  Metaphysics  ? Here, 
confessedly,  we  deal  with  the  real  or  concrete.  We  have 
to  look  at  the  contents  of  experience  — of  space  and  time ; 
at  what  we  call  the  phenomenal  world;  and  we  have  to 
consider  the  relations  or  the  parts  of  this  world  to  the 
preceding  parts,  and  to  each  other,  as  it  were,  all  around. 
We  have  to  look  at  it  in  time  and  space.  This  is  the 
physical  point  of  view.  Metaphysically,  we  must  still 
keep  in  view  this  concrete  world.  But  the  metaphysical 
questions  relate  to  the  nature  of  its  reality,  its  origin, 


74 


INTRODUCTION 


order,  development.  What  it  is,  whence  it  is,  how  it  has 
become,  whither  it  is  tending, — these  questions  cannot 
be  discussed  without  dealing  in  the  same  way  with  the 
world  of  consciousness  — with  the  nature,  origin,  and 
destiny  of  the  Self  or  Ego  in  consciousness  — as  far  as 
this  may  be  competent  and  consistent  with  the  conditions 
of  intelligibility.  Without  doubt  those  contents  are  in 
time,  or  in  time  and  space.  They  are  the  materials 
which  we  have  to  examine  — if  possible,  to  deduce  in 
their  order.  We  have  to  show,  in  fact,  on  such  a method, 
the  causal  relations  of  the  whole  terms  of  reality;  we 
have  to  show  also  the  necessary  connection  of  every  idea 
— certainly  of  every  universal  idea,  be  it  form  of  per- 
ception or  of  thought  proper  — in  the  human  conscious- 
ness. We  must,  in  a word,  deduce  from  some  primary 
conception  — some  primary  possibility,  clearly  and  dis- 
tinctly conceived,  the  typical  idea,  at  least  in  every 
physical  generalization,  the  universal  law  or  condition 
which  is  in  every  act  of  human  cognition. 

Now  the  question  is,  Is  the  method  of  Spinoza  — is, 
in  fact,  any  deductive  method  whatever  — able  to  do 
this  ? Let  us  look  at  the  physical  problem  as  under- 
taken by  the  deductive  method.  (<  Real  and  physical 
things,”  Spinoza  tells  us,  <(  cannot  be  understood  so  long 
as  their  essence  is  unknown.  If  we  leave  essences  out 
of  view,  the  necessary  connection  of  ideas  which  should 
reproduce  the  necessary  connection  of  objects  is  de- 
stroyed. ” 

Now  we  shall  not  ask  the  method  to  condescend  to  the 
contingent  facts  of  time  and  space  — to  the  passing  in- 
dividuals of  the  moment.  We  shall  test  it  simply  by 
general  ideas.  We  shall  ask  it  to  show  that  one  form  of 
concrete  being  can  be  the  ground  of  the  anticipation  or 
prediction  of  another,  which  we  have  not  yet  experienced 
as  following  from  it,  or  in  connection  with  it.  Would 
the  clear  and  distinct  knowledge  of  the  constituent  ele- 
ments of  a body  enable  us  in  any  case  beforehand  to 
predict  its  sensible  effect,  provided  this  effect  is  specifically 
different  in  its  appearance  to  the  senses  from  the  orig- 
inal body  or  cause  ? In  the  case,  for  example,  of  two 
given  chemical  elements,  could  any  analysis  of  these 
enable  us  even  to  conceive  or  to  anticipate,  far  less 
determine  necessarily  — apart  from  experience  of  the 


INTRODUCTION 


75 


actual  sequence  — the  character  of  the  new  resultant  body  ? 
Even  suppose  there  were  the  most  perfect  mathematical 
knowledge  of  the  proportions  of  the  elements,  would  it  be 
possible  to  pass  from  this  numerical  knowledge  to  the 
new  object  — say  from  two  gases  to  the  fluid  we  call 
water  ? No  scientific  inquirer  would  maintain  such  a 
position,  and  he  would  be  wholly  right. 

But  the  case  is  much  stronger  when  we  have  a sensi- 
ble body  appreciable  by  one  sense  the  effect  of  which  is 
an  impression  or  quality  apprehensible  only  by  another 
sense.  Suppose  we  have  a complete  apprehension  of  the 
particular  molecular  motion  which  precedes  the  sensation 
of  heat,  should  we  be  able  simply  from  this  knowledge 
to  predict,  even  conceive,  the  wholly  new  sensation  abso- 
lutely apart  from  any  given  sequence  in  which  it  oc- 
curred ? The  thing  is  impossible.  Motion  is  an  object 
of  one  sense,  heat  of  another.  In  other  words,  there 
must  be  an  appeal  to  a new  form  of  organic  suscepti- 
bility. The  same  is  true  of  the  vibration  preceding 
sound ; of  the  molecular  motion  issuing  in  light  or  color ; 
of  the  pain  or  pleasure  we  feel  from  sensational  stimuli; 
of  every  effect,  of  food,  or  poison,  on  the  human  organ- 
ization; indeed,  of  the  whole  sphere  of  physical  causality. 
The  truth  is,  that  if  this  method  of  deduction  were  pos- 
sible in  a single  instance,  there  would  be  no  logical  bar- 
rier to  our  deduction  of  the  whole  ideas  embodied  in  the 
laws  of  the  physical  universe  out  of  the  primordial  atoms. 
And  if  the  impossibility  of  anticipation  hold  in  one  case, 
it  will  hold  in  all.  Hence  the  conclusion  is  obvious,  that 
even  if  we  knew  the  actual  state  of  the  totality  of  phe- 
nomena in  the  world  at  any  given  time,  we  should  be 
utterly  unable  to  predict  through  this  its  actual  state  in 
the  subsequent  moment.  But  an  absolutely  demonstra- 
tive physics  is  about  the  vainest  of  dreams.  Physical 
sequences  cannot  even  be  anticipated  after  this  fashion; 
far  less  can  they  be  necessarily  determined. 

But  does  this  method  fare  any  better  in  Metaphysics  in 
the  hands  of  Spinoza  ? 

i.  Its  first  requirement  is  clear  and  distinct  ideas  of 
what  are  assumed  as  ultimate  metaphysical  conceptions, 
— the  prima  possibilia  of  Leibnitz.  This  knowledge  is 
given  in  the  form  of  definitions, — eight  in  number.  We 
have  definitions  among  others,  of  Cause  (self-cause),  Sub- 


76 


INTRODUCTION 


stance,  Attribute,  Mode,  God,  Eternity.  Of  these  the 
primary  idea,  as  shown  in  the  propositions  which  follow, 
is  Substance.  God  is  defined  “as  the  being  absolutely 
infinite  — i.  e. , the  substance  consisting  of  infinite  attrib- 
utes, each  of  which  expresses  an  infinite  and  eternal  es- 
sence. ® And  we  are  told  that  “ that  which  is  absolutely 
infinite  includes  in  its  essence  everything  which  implies 
essence  and  involves  no  negation.® 

2.  It  is  assumed  that  what  is  involved  in  these  defini- 
tions, and  capable  of  being  evolved  out  of  them,  accord- 
ing to  a process  of  reasoning  or  manipulation  of  the 
terms,  constitutes  our  knowledge  of  the  whole  called  the 
Universe  of  Being. 

3.  It  is  assumed,  further,  that  we  can  gain  by  this  pro- 
cess new  and  explicit  conceptions  of  the  variety  of  the 
contents  of  the  Universe:  can,  in  fact,  determine  what  they 
are,  can  only  be,  and  must  be.  This  knowledge  comprises 
both  material  and  spiritual  reality;  both  the  spheres  of  ex- 
tension and  thought  or  consciousness. 

Now,  first,  looking  at  these  definitions,  will  it  be  said 
that  we  have  anything  like  a clear  and  distinct  knowl- 
edge of  the  meaning  even  implied  in  the  terms  in  which 
they  are  couched  ? Take,  for  example,  the  definition  of 
substance,  which  is  really  at  the  root  of  the  whole  mat- 
ter. Spinoza  tells  us  that  by  substance  he  understands 
“that  which  exists  in  itself  and  is  conceived  perse;*  in 
other  words,  “ that  the  conception  of  which  can  be  formed 
without  need  of  the  conception  of  anything  else.®  As 
thus  stated,  there  can  of  course  be  but  one  substance. 
Have  we  even  any  such  conception  as  this  ? Is  this 
expression  more  than  a mere  form  of  words  ? Is  there 
anything  in  experience  or  consciousness  into  which  these 
terms  can  be  translated  ? Consciousness,  which  is  all- 
embracing,  implies  discrimination  of  thinker  and  thought 
or  object, — a relation  between  knower  and  known.  Can 
an  object  corresponding  to  the  terms  of  a substance  exist- 
ing in  itself,  and  conceived  per  se,  appear  or  be  in  my 
consciousness  ? There  can  be  nothing  before  it ; there  can 
be  nothing  else  along  with  it;  it  must  be  at  once  thinker 
and  thought.  It  must  be  the  simple  indifference  of  subject 
and  object,  absolutely  beyond  every  form  of  predication. 
Is  the  realization  of  such  an  object  in  our  consciousness 
compatible  with  the  conditions  of  intelligibility  or  mean- 


INTRODUCTION 


77 


ing  ? Yet  it  is  of  this  we  are  said  to  have  a clear  and 
distinct  idea:  — and  it  is  from  this  that  we  are  able  to 
deduce  the  Universe  of  Being. 

Now,  let  us  compare  this  conception  of  Substance  with 
the  same  notion  in  the  system  of  Descartes.  (<  By  Sub- 
stance we  can  conceive  nothing  else  than  a thing  which 
exists  in  such  a way  as  to  stand  in  need  of  nothing  beyond 
itself  in  order  to  its  existence.  And  in  truth  there  can  be 
conceived  but  one  Substance  which  is  absolutely  independ- 
ent, and  that  is  God.  We  perceive  that  all  other  things 
can  exist  only  by  help  of  the  concourse  of  God.  And 
accordingly,  the  term  Substance  does  not  apply  to  God 
and  the  creatures  univocally.  ® Again,  he  says : <(  By  the 
name  God,  I understand  a Substance  which  is  infinite 
[eternal,  immutable],  all-knowing,  all-powerful,  and  by 
which  I myself  and  everything  that  exists,  if  any  such 
there  be,  was  created.  ® He  tells  us  that  (<  Substance  can- 
not be  first  discovered  merely  from  its  being  a thing 
which  exists  independently,  for  existence  by  itself  is  not 
apprehended  by  us.  We  easily,  however,  discover  sub- 
stance itself  from  any  attribute  of  it,  by  this  common 
notion,  that  of  nothing  there  can  be  no  attributes,  proper- 
ties, or  qualities ; for,  from  perceiving  that  some  attribute 
is  present,  we  infer  that  some  existing  thing  or  substance 
to  which  it  may  be  attributed  is  also  of  necessity  present.  ® 
This  is  obviously  a totally  different  conception  from  that 
of  Spinoza.  Descartes  denies  entirely  the  apprehension 
or  conception  of  being  per  se.  Even  his  infinite  Substance 
implies  predication  and  relation.  And  the  notion  Sub- 
stance implies  experience  to  begin  with,  and  a relation 
involved  in  experience.  Here,  at  least,  the  conditions  of 
intelligibility  are  not  violated.  We  can  put  a meaning 
into  the  words  without  intellectual  felo  de  se.  And  yet 
we  are  told  that  Spinoza  simply  carried  out  the  principles 
of  Descartes.  If  to  reverse  the  principles  of  a system  as 
a starting-point  is  to  carry  them  out  to  their  logical  re- 
sults, Spinoza  has  that  merit.  What  he  did  really  was  to 
take  one  element  of  a complete  experience,  or  implicate 
of  experience,  and  to  set  up,  as  a first  or  starting-point, 
the  abstraction  which  he  illegitimately  severed  from  the 
intelligible  conditions  recognized  by  Descartes. 

But  what  of  the  relation  of  those  ideas  to  experience 
or  reality  ? Are  they  adequate  conceptions  of  what  is  ? 


78 


INTRODUCTION 


They  are  conceptions  or  definitions,  no  doubt,  framed  by 
the  mind;  and  by  help  of  postulates  and  axioms  all  their 
implied  relations  can  be  evolved  out  of  them.  But  what 
then  ? Do  they  or  their  relations  touch  experience  at  all  ? 
Supposing  we  get  the  primary  conception  of  all  things, 
the  question  arises,  What  is  the  relation  of  the  concep- 
tions following  this  and  flowing  from  it  to  the  order  of 
things  ? Now  here  we  have  the  gross  incongruity  of  the 
Spinozistic  method.  One  might  have  expected  that,  if 
clear  and  distinct  conceptions  are  to  be  set  at  the  head 
of  reality,  clear  and  distinct  conceptions  following  them 
in  necessary  order  would  have  been  all  that  is  necessary, 
or  at  least  all  that  we  could  legitimately  get  from  such 
a hypothesis.  But  no.  It  seems  that  those  ideas  are 
essentially  representative  of  things.  The  definitions  or 
hypotheses  set  at  the  head  of  the  system  express  the 
essence,  the  inner  nature  of  things  — otherwise  they  are 
useless.  There  is  a dualism,  therefore ; there  is  an  order 
of  things  as  well  as  of  thoughts ; and  there  is  a complete 
correspondence,  or,  as  he  expresses  it,  identity  between 
the  order  of  ideas  and  the  order  of  things.  And  thus 
id  quod  in  intellectu  objective  continetur  dcbet  necessario  in 
natura  dari.  Here  we  are  back  again  at  subjective  and 
objective.  There  is  the  subjective  idea  — the  clear  and 
distinct  idea  corresponding  to  the  objective  reality.  But 
what  guarantee  have  we,  on  the  system,  of  an  objective 
reality  or  order  of  things  at  all  ? How  do  we  pass  from 
clear  and  distinct  idea  of  Substance  or  Cause  to  what  lies 
entirely  beyond  the  order  of  ideas  ? What  legitimate 
deduction  can  be  made  from  clear  and  distinct  idea,  ex- 
cept only  another  clear  and  distinct  idea  ? And  can  this 
be  regarded  as  representing  something  called  nature, 
which,  in  the  first  instance,  it  never  directly  knew  ? 
From  the  primary,  clear,  and  distinct  idea,  if  you  can  get 
it,  you  may  also  get  its  sequences ; but  these  will  only  be 
ideas  following  on  ideas.  The  conception  that  they  are 
representative  of  an  order  of  things  beyond  them,  or  that 
there  is  such  an  order  at  all,  is  a mere  hypothesis,  and 
one  wholly  illegitimate. 

But  Spinoza  grounds  the  notion  that  there  is  a corre- 
spondence between  thought  and  extension,  so  strict  that 
the  former  is  the  mirror  of  the  latter,  on  their  super- 
sensible identity  in  the  same  substance.  He  says  that 


INTRODUCTION 


79 


mind  and  body  are  <(  unum  et  idem  individtrum,  quod 
jam  sub  cogitationis  sub  extensionis  attributo  concipitur.  ® 
Extension  and  Thought  are  thus  said  to  be  two  funda- 
mental attributes  of  the  same  substance,  therefore  really 
the  same,  differing  only  in  appearance  or  phenomenally. 
Bodies  are  modes  of  the  former;  finite  thought  or  souls 
are  modes  of  the  latter.  Hence  the  representative  order 
of  ideas  corresponds  to  the  formal  order  of  nature.  As 
an  expositor  has  expressed  it,  (<  Soul  and  body  are  the 
same  thing,  but  expressed  in  the  one  case  only  as  con- 
scious thought,  in  the  other  as  material  existence.  They 
differ  only  in  form,  so  far  as  the  nature  and  life  of  the 
body  — so  far,  that  is,  as  the  various  corporeal  impres- 
sions, movements,  functions,  which  obey  wholly  and 
solely  the  laws  of  the  material  organism,  spontaneously 
coalesce  in  the  soul  to  the  unity  of  consciousness,  con- 
ception, and  thought.  * It  is  needless  to  criticise  language 
of  this  sort,  though  commonly  enough  to  be  met  with. 
It  has  neither  coherency  nor  intelligibility.  It  slurs  over 
the  real  difficulty  of  the  whole  problem,  as  to  whether 
the  unconscious  nerve-action  can  pass  or  be  transmuted 
into  any  form  of  consciousness:  it  does  not  even  touch 
the  question  of  proof,  but  takes  refuge  in  mere  assump- 
tive verbalism.  Nor  is  it  of  the  slightest  moment  to  the 
argument  to  say  that  extension  and  thought  are  related 
as  common  attributes  to  the  one  substance.  This,  even 
if  established,  means  simply  that  they  are  supersensibly 
one;  whereas  the  question  before  us  is  as  to  their  corre- 
spondence or  identity  in  our  experience. 

But  is  this  conception  of  Substance,  or  God,  truly  con- 
vertible with  the  Reality  ? Can  we  at  any  one  time,  in 
any  one  act,  or  in  any  one  category  of  thought,  embrace 
Being  in  its  all-comprehending  totality  ? This  is  the  real 
pretension  of  Spinozism.  We  can  have  a thought  — viz, 
that  of  Substance  within  which  lies  the  whole  content  of 
Being,  only  waiting  development.  The  assumption  here 
is  that  Notional  Reality,  called  sometimes  Thought,  is 
identical  with  Being,  and  that  in  its  evolutions  and  rela- 
tions we  find  the  true  Universe.  But  such  a conception 
is  an  impossibility  from  the  first.  Bare,  or  mere  being, 
mere  is  or  isness,  is  all  which  such  a conception  contains. 
Extensively  this  embraces  everything  actual  and  possible ; 
but  it  is  not,  in  the  first  instance,  even  conceivable  per 


8o 


INTRODUCTION 


se,  any  more  than  the  isolated  singular  of  sensation  is; 
and,  in  the  second  place,  it  has  of  itself  no  comprehen- 
sion or  content.  It  is  incapable  of  passing  into  anything 
beyond  itself.  Hegel  would  object  to  Spinoza’s  position 
here,  by  saying  that  while  he  was  on  the  right  line  he 
made  his  substance  (<  a pure  affirmation,  * incapable  thus 
of  development.  When  Spinoza  made  it  that,  he  made 
it  too  much,  — more  than  the  indeterminate  or  uncondi- 
tioned was  entitled  to.  And  when  it  is  sought  to  be 
added  that  <(  pure  affirmation  * must  be  held  to  imply 
<(  negation,  ® we  are  simply  glossing  over  the  difficulty  by 
applying  to  so-called  notions  of  what  is  above  experience, 
conceptions  and  laws  which  have  a meaning  only  in  the 
sphere  of  objects  in  definite  consciousness.  Moreover,  a 
notion  which  issues  necessarily  in  negation,  which  goes 
<(  out  of  itself, M in  the  metaphorical  fashion  of  the  dia- 
lectic, and  so  returns  enriched  — with  its  negation  ab- 
sorbed— is  quite  entitled  to  be  relegated  to  the  sphere 
of  the  very  <(  purest  Reason. w 

Spinoza’s  demonstration  is,  in  short,  the  grossest  form 
of  petitory  assumption.  It  is  not  even  attempted  to  be 
proved  that  the  definitions  of  substance  and  attribute 
and  mode,  with  which  he  starts,  have  objects  correspond- 
ing to  them  in  experience.  All  that  is  alleged  as  a 
ground  of  this  is  the  clearness  and  distinctness  of  the 
ideas.  Nay,  it  is  the  boast  of  the  system  that  objects 
are  deduced  from  them,  and  set  in  their  necessary  rela- 
tions. But  the  definitions  are  merely  postulates.  All 
that  can  be  claimed  for  them  is  this  character:  Let  the 

term  substance  stand  for  so-and-so;  let  the  terms  attri- 
bute and  mode  do  the  same, — and  here  are  the  necessary 
consequences.  But  this  cannot  give  more  than  a hypo- 
thetical system  of  formal  abstractions ; and  what  is  more, 
it  can  yield  only  petitory  conclusions.  Before  the  system 
becomes  real  and  typical  of  experience,  it  must  be  shown 
that  the  definitions  correspond  to  objects  of  experience. 
This,  however,  cannot  be  done;  in  fact,  they  are  assump- 
tions, which  transcend  experience  from  the  first;  and  if 
it  could  be  done,  it  would  be  fatal  to  the  system  as  one 
of  pure  reason.  Nay,  it  cannot  even  be  shown  that  the 
method  has  a right  to  the  use  of  the  terms  Substance, 
Attribute,  and  Mode  at  all.  These  are  simply  stolen 
from  the  language  of  experience.  And  as  to  the  definition 


INTRODUCTION 


81 


of  substance  itself,  it  is  essentially  empty;  for,  as  has 
been  remarked,  the  substance  defined  is  neither  clearly 
conceived  as  the  subject  of  inherence  nor  as  the  cause  of 
dependence. 

The  contrast  is  not  the  less  if  we  look  at  the  results 
of  the  two  methods.  The  analytic  observation  of  Des- 
cartes yields  a personal  conscious  being  — and  a personal 
conscious  Deity,  with  definite  attributes  given  to  him  on 
the  analogy  of  our  experience.  The  deduction  of  Spinoza, 
starting  from  a purely  indeterminate  abstraction  called 
substance,  gives  us,  as  the  only  reality  of  the  Ego,  a 
mode  of  thought,  or  a collection  of  the  modes  of  thought. 
Thought  and  Extension  are  the  two  attributes  of  this 
indeterminate  substance,  which,  as  such,  is  neither,  and 
yet  both.  Of  these  attributes,  again,  there  are  modes; 
and  the  modes  of  thought  are  ideas,  and  the  soul  is  one 
of  those  ideas,  or  rather  an  assemblage  of  them.  This 
is  man, — it  is  simply  an  anticipation  of  David  Hume’s 
(( bundle  of  impressions.  ® This  we  may  substitute  for 
the  personal  Ego  of  Descartes. 

If  we  look  a little  more  closely  into  the  matter,  we 
shall  find  that  the  vaunted  idealism  of  Spinoza  is  really, 
when  brought  to  the  test,  the  merest  vulgar  empiricism. 
Something  he  calls  idea  is  the  root  or  ground  of  the 
human  soul.  But  we  are  immediately  told  that  idea 
means  nothing  apart  from  object  or  ideatum.  But  what 
is  the  ideatum  ? It  turns  out  to  be  body.  The  body 
makes  the  idea  adequate  or  complete.  We  have  con- 
stant asseveration  of  this  point.  The  whole  system  of 
Spinoza  is  a roundabout  way  of  coming  to  say  that 
finite  thought  is  an  act  dependent  on  object  for  its 
reality,  and  this  object  is  body.  Now  we  may  here 
fairly  set  aside  the  big  talk  of  the  system  about  sub- 
stances and  conceptions.  It  turns  out  that  the  only 
thought  we  really  know  is  dependent  on  body  or  organ- 
ization. We  had  substance  to  begin  with, — the  pure  idea; 
yet  when  we  come  to  our  own  consciousness,  this  does 
not  come  down  in  the  line  of  thought  from  the  infinite 
substance.  This  is  dependent  as  with  Hobbes  or  Gas- 
sendi, on  a bodily  organization,  begged  in  knowledge  for 
the  sake  of  giving  reality  to  finite  thought  ! What,  when 
tested  in  experience  does  all  this  come  to,  except  the 
most  vulgar  form  of  empiricism  ? If  idea  — the  move- 
6 


82 


INTRODUCTION 


ment  of  finite  thought  — be  impossible  unless  as  cog- 
nizant of  bodily  object,  and  object  be  essential  to  its 
reality, — what  is  it  but  a reflex  of  organization?  Of 
course  I may  be  told  that  extension  is  an  attribute  of 
Deity,  and  that,  in  knowing  it,  I know  God.  But  I am 
afraid  that  if  every  act  of  knowledge  even  in  sense  is 
constituted  by  the  object  or  ideatum  called  body,  I must 
be  limited  to  that  object  and  its  sphere.  And  as  any 
hypothesis  about  substance  and  its  attributes  must  be  re- 
garded by  me  as  a mere  form  of  doubtful  imagining, 
Spinoza  is  merely  the  precursor  of  those  specious  high 
forms  of  idealism,  which  in  their  essence  coincide  actu- 
ally with  the  lowest  forms  of  empiricism  and  negation. 
Like  empirical  systems,  they  really  abolish  difference, 
and  thus  may  be  expressed  equally  in  the  language  of 
the  lowest  sensationalism  and  the  highest  idealism. 

But  what  adds  to  the  marvel  of  the  whole  matter  is 
that  this  idea,  which  we  venture  to  call  self  or  self- 
consciousness,  is  really  the  reflex  of  certain  bodily  move- 
ments. These  are  forms  of  extension,  no  doubt;  yet 
their  reflection  is  what  we  must  take  for  the  unity  of 
mind.  In  other  words,  the  sum  of  movements  in  the 
body,  becoming  object  of  the  idea,  gives  rise  to  the  con- 
ception of  the  unity  of  self.  The  idea  has  nothing  ex- 
cept what  it  gets  from  the  ideatum.  This  is  a series  or 
assemblage  of  bodily  movements;  and  these,  mysteri- 
ously reflected,  form  in  consciousness  the  hallucination 
of  self  and  self-identity.  Should  we  not  be  thankful  for 
demonstration  in  metaphysics! 

We  have  seen  what  kind  of  Deity  Descartes  found  and 
represented.  What  is  the  Deity  of  Spinoza  ? It  is  this 
Substance,  if  you  choose.  But  taken  in  itself,  it  is  wholly 
indeterminate;  it  has  no  attribute.  Yet  it  necessarily 
clothes  itself  in  two  Attributes,  which  we  chance  to 
know  — viz,  Thought  and  Extension.  But  Divine  or  In- 
finite thought  is  not  conscious  of  itself,  is  not  conscious- 
ness at  all.  It  knows  neither  itself  nor  its  end;  yet  it 
works  out  through  all  the  fullness  of  space  and  time.  It 
is  the  blind  unconscious  immanent  in  all  things, — in 
what  we  call  souls,  and  in  what  we  call  bodies  — in  con- 
sciousness and  extension.  Deity  in  himself  thus,  as 
natura  naturans,  is  utterly  void  of  intelligence:  he  is  at 
the  best  a possibility  of  development  into  attributes  and 


INTRODUCTION 


83 


modes;  though  how  he  is  so  much,  being  wholly  inde- 
terminate to  begin  with,  it  is  hard  to  see.  Such  a Deity 
is  incapable  of  purpose  or  conscious  end.  He  is  an  order 
of  necessary  development  without  foresight;  he  knows 
not  what  he  is  about  to  do;  it  is  doubtful  whether  he 
even  knows  or  cares  for  what  he  has  done.  He  has 
neither  intelligence  to  conceive,  nor  will  to  realize  a final 
cause.  He  is  impersonal,  heartless,  remorseless.  Submit 
to  him  you  may;  nay,  must.  Love  him  you  cannot.  His 
perfection  is  the  sum  simply  of  what  is,  and  must  be. 
Call  it  good  or  evil,  it  is  really  neither,  but  the  neutrum 
of  fate.  This  Deity  of  Spinoza  was  neither  identical  with 
the -Deity  of  Descartes,  nor  is  it  a logical  development 
of  his  principles.  It  is  a Deity  simply  at  once  pantheis- 
tic and  fatal.  And  this  is  not  a necessary  or  logical  con- 
ception following  from  the  free  and  intelligent  creator  of 
Cartesianism.  It  is  in  the  end  but  another  name  for  the 
sum  and  the  laws  of  things;  and  throwing  out  intelli- 
gence from  the  substance  at  starting,  it  illogically  credits 
it  with  ideas  in  the  shape  of  modes  in  the  end.  The 
Deity  of  Descartes  was  an  expansion  of  a personal  con- 
sciousness; not,  as  this  is,  and  is  necessarily;  a simple 
negation  alike  of  intelligence  and  morality. 

The  lowering,  almost  effacing,  of  individuality  in  the 
system  of  Descartes,  is  no  doubt  the  great  blot,  and  that 
which  most  readily  led  to  Spinozism.  When  me  conscious 
as  a fact  is  resolved  into  thought  as  the  essence  of  my 
being  — and  when  the  external  world  is  stripped  of  every 
quality  save  extension,  and  is  thus  reduced  to  absolute 
passivity, — we  are  wholly  in  the  line  of  abstract  thought. 
We  are  now  dealing  with  notions  idealized,  not  realities, 
or  notions  realized.  The  res  cogitans  and  the  res  extensa 
are  essentially  abstractions.  The  life  we  feel  in  con- 
sciousness, the  living  forms  we  know  in  nature,  are  no 
more.  We  are  on  the  way  to  the  modes  of  Spinoza,  but 
we  are  by  no  means  called  upon  to  accept  either  his 
identification  of  those  entities, — thought  or  extension  — 
or  to  embrace  the  incoherent  verbalism  of  the  indeter- 
minate substance  and  its  attributes. 

The  indistinctness  with  which  Descartes  lays  down  the 
position  of  the  conservation  of  the  finite  is  a point  which 
no  doubt  suggested  a kind  of  Spinozistic  solution.  He 
makes  conservation  as  much  a divine  act  as  creation. 


INTRODUCTION 


There  is  nothing,  he  holds,  in  the  creature  itself,  or  in 
the  moments  of  its  duration,  which  accounts  for  its  con- 
tinued existence.  Divine  power  is  as  much  needed  through 
time  for  this  continuity  of  life,  as  divine  creation  was 
needed  at  the  first.  This  doctrine  might  conceivably  be 
regarded  as  implying  that  the  actual  power  or  being  of 
the  creature  is  at  each  moment  a direct  effect  from 
God,  or,  as  a pantheist  would  put  it,  a manifestation 
of  the  substance  immanent  in  all  things.  This  latter 
was  of  course  the  Spinozistic  solution  of  the  problem. 
But  the  idea  of  dynamic  force  of  Leibnitz, — the  self- 
contained  and  self-developing  power  of  the  monad  — going 
back  to  the  one  primitive  unity,  or  original  monad  of 
all,  and  yet  preserving  a certain  temporal  individuality, 
— was  a more  logical  solution  and  supplement  than  the 
immanent  substance  of  Spinoza.  God  acted  once  and  for 
all.  He  delegated  his  power  to  finite  substances.  Though 
these  could  not  act  on  each  other,  they  could  spontane- 
ously act.  The  true  disciple  of  Descartes  is  thus  not 
driven  necessarily  to  the  Spinozistic  solution,  even  if  we 
throw  out  of  account  Geulincx’s  doctrine  of  Occasional 
Causes.  The  logical  successor  of  Descartes  was  certainly 
Leibnitz,  not  Spinoza.  It  was  Leibnitz  who  caught  the 
true  spirit  and  the  essential  features  of  the  system,  and 
in  many  ways  carried  it  on  to  a broader  and  fuller 
development.  Spinoza’s  was  a retrograde  movement  into 
the  antiquated  verbalistic  thought. 

Not  satisfied,  apparently,  with  contradicting  the  con- 
sciousness of  man  in  personal  experience  and  in  history 
regarding  himself  and  his  nature,  Spinoza  ends  by  con- 
tradicting his  own  speculative  system,  in  setting  up  a 
theory  of  morals.  First  of  all,  man,  the  subject  of  moral 
obligation  is  a temporary  necessary  mode  of  the  infinite 
attribute, — unconscious  thought;  and  all  his  poor  thoughts 
and  volitions,  are  equally  necessary  developments.  Yet 
he  is  to  be  held  as  capable  of  moral  action  and  subject 
to  moral  law.  Surely  such  a conception  should  in  proper 
Spinozistic  fashion  be  rigorously  put  down  as  a mere 
illusion,  on  the  part  of  the  mode  of  consciousness  which 
conceits  itself  to  be,  and  to  be  free,  when  the  only  reality 
is  the  Infinite,  and  there  is  nothing  in  time  or  space 
which  is  but  as  it  must  be,  or  rather  nothing  save 
necessary  appearance. 


INTRODUCTION 


85 


Spinoza  was  logically  right  when  he  said  that  there  is 
no  good  or  bad  with  God ; that  repentance  is  a weakness 
unworthy  of  a man  of  true  knowledge.  But  an  ethic 
after  that  is  an  impossibility. 

But  it  may  be  said,  and  it  is  attempted  to  be  made 
out,  that  the  finite  or  differenced  reality  is  a necessary 
part  of  the  Infinite  — is  developed  from  it  as  a part  of 
moment, — that  this  is  a manifestation  of  the  Infinite  — 
that  it  is  as  necessary  to  the  Infinite  as  the  Infinite  is 
to  it.  Without  meanwhile  questioning  the  assumptions 
here  involved,  I have  to  ask,  How  far  does  such  a 
doctrine  lead  us  ? The  finite  or  thing  differenced  from 
the  Infinite  has  various  forms.  What  reality  can  there 
be  in  finite  knowledge  ? Difference  and  distinction  are 
merely  in  appearance.  The  yes  and  the  no,  the  true 
and  the  false,  the  good  and  the  bad,  the  veracious  and 
the  unveracious,  are  merely  in  seeming  and  appearance. 
Each  is  an  abstract  view:  the  real  behind  all  this  show 
is  the  identity  of  their  difference;  it  is  the  Infinite  out 
of  which  they  come,  and  into  which  they  are  to  be  with- 
drawn. This  Infinite  is  an  identity  of  all  thoughts  and 
things.  In  this  case,  is  not  the  whole  of  finite  knowl- 
edge and  belief  a simple  illusion  — a deceit  played  out 
upon  me  the  conscious  thinker  ? In  fact,  it  subsists 
by  difference — yes  and  no  are  finite  determinations,  and 
they  are  differences.  Are  these  equally  manifestations 
of  the  Infinite  in  every  given  notion  ? In  that  case 
everything  I assert  as  true  is  also  false,  and  the  false  is 
just  as  much  a manifestation  of  the  Infinite  as  the  true 
is.  I oppose  justice  and  injustice  — veracity  and  non- 
veracity: these  are  different  — opposite.  Their  very  reality 
consists  in  the  difference  between  them  being  and 
being  permanent.  But  if  each  is  a manifestation,  and  a 
necessary  manifestation,  of  the  same  transcendent  being 
or  infinite,  if  this  infinite  is  in  them  equally,  and  they 
in  it  equally,  then  they  are  really  the  same;  and  as  the 
Infinite  goes  on  developing  itself,  we  may  well  expect 
their  final  absorption  or  identification.  This  doctrine  of 
a necessary  manifestation  of  the  Infinite  in  every  finite 
form  of  thought,  in  every  general  idea,  is,  if  possible, 
worse  as  a moral  and  theological  theory  than  even  the 
vague  indefinite  of  Spinoza.  But  such  an  Infinite  is 
really  empty  phraseology.  It  is  the  mere  abstraction 


86 


INTRODUCTION 


of  being,  without  difference  or  distinction,  subsisting 
equally  in  all  that  is.  To  say  that  it  is  the  ultimate 
truth  of  all  is  merely  to  say  that  all  the  differenced  is; 
hence  all  the  differenced  is  the  same. 

A philosophy  whose  logical  result  is  the  abolition  of 
the  distinction  between  good  and  evil,  or  the  representa- 
tion of  it  as  only  a temporal  delusion, — which  scorn 
repentance  and  humility,  and  the  love  of  God  to  his 
creatures,  as  irrational  weaknesses, — may  be  fairly  ques- 
tioned in  its  first  principles.  It  may  call  itself  the  high- 
est form  of  reason,  if  it  chooses,  but  it  is  certain  to  be 
repudiated,  and  properly  so,  by  the  common  conscious- 
ness of  mankind.  It  is  an  instance,  also,  of  the  injury 
to  moral  interests  which  is  inseparable  from  the  assump- 
tion involved  in  a purely  deductive  or  reasoned-out  sys- 
tem of  philosophy,  that  knowledge  must  be  evolved  from 
a single  principle, — possibly  a purely  intellectual  one, — 
whereas  the  body  of  our  knowledge,  speculative  and 
ethical,  reposes  on  a series  of  co-ordinate  principles, 
which  are  mutually  limitative,  yet  harmonious. 

It  is  claimed  for  Spinoza  as  a superlative  philosophical 
virtue,  that  he  was  entirely  free  from  superstition, — had 
a hearty  and  proper  abhorrence  of  what  is  called  com- 
mon-sense,— held  ordinary  opinion  as  misleading,  being 
abstract  and  imaginative.  He  was  thus  the  proper  me- 
dium for  the  passage  of  the  immanent  dialectic,  a proper 
recipient  of  the  rays  of  the  (<  pure  reason.  ® This  enabled 
him  to  see  things  in  their  true  relations, — their  relations 
to  each  other,  and  the  whole  which  they  constitute, — 
and  to  see  also  that  things  are  not  to  be  judged  by  the 
relation  which  they  may  appear  to  have  to  man.  The 
truth  on  this  point  is,  that  he  was  a man  of  extreme 
narrowness,  and  incapable  from  his  constitution  of  appre- 
ciating the  power  and  the  breadth  of  reality,  and  shut 
out  nearly  from  the  whole  circle  of  true  and  wholesome 
human  feeling.  His  freedom  from  superstition  as  seen 
in  the  light  of  his  critical  exegesis,  means  a total  ignor- 
ing of  the  supernatural  or  divine  element  in  revelation. 
Miracle  is  in  his  eyes  impossible,  to  begin  with,  and 
prophecy  is  only  an  ecstatic  imagination.  His  contempt 
for  common-sense  and  common  opinion  is  so  extrava- 
gant, that  he  wholly  misses  the  germ  of  fact  which 
gives  life  and  force  to  these,  and  which  a careful  ana- 


INTRODUCTION 


87 


lyst  of  human  nature  cannot  afford  to  despise.  From 
this  bias  he  failed  entirely  to  appreciate  psychological 
facts,  and  properly  to  analyze  them.  This  analysis, 
carried  as  far  back  as  you  choose,  shows  that  per- 
sonality, free-will,  responsibility,  are  immediate  in- 
ternal convictions  which  lie  at  the  very  root  of  our 
moral  life.  But  these,  however  well  guaranteed  by 
consciousness,  are  to  be  mutilated  or  wholly  set  aside  in 
the  interest  of  a narrow  deduction.  The  conviction  of 
free-will  is  a delusion.  We  have  only  forgot  the  neces- 
sary determinations.  Will  and  intelligence,  two  of  the 
most  obviously  and  most  vitally  distinct  factors  in  our 
mental  life,  are  submitted  to  no  proper  analysis.  They 
are  simply  identified.  Spinoza  was  wholly  destitute  of 
imagination;  he  decries  it;  and  it  is  deemed  sufficient  to 
put  it  aside  from  philosophy  as  subject  to  no  other  con- 
ditions than  those  of  space  and  time.  But  imagination, 
of  its  appropriate  kind,  is  as  necessary  to  the  philosopher 
as  to  the  historian  or  the  poet.  It  is  the  means  of  keep- 
ing his  abstract  thought  vital,  — of  helping  to  realize  its 
true  meaning,  individualizing  it  and  saving  it  from  ver- 
balism. In  a philosophy  which  professes  to  represent  the 
universe  in  its  absolute  totality,  why  should  the  function 
of  imagination  be  mutilated  or  ignored  ? This  leanness 
of  spirit  in  Spinoza  is  not  atoned  for  by  the  force  of  his 
reasoning.  It  only  becomes  painfully  apparent  in  the  series 
of  statements  said  to  be  demonstrated,  and  in  the  arro- 
gant spirit  with  which  he  treats  both  Aristotle*  and  Bacon. 
The  truth  is,  that  his  demonstration  has  no  true  cohe- 
rency. It  is  faulty  in  its  most  vital  point, — the  connection 
between  the  indeterminate  or  Substance,  and  the  attri- 
butes of  Thought  and  Extension,  or  indeed  any  attribute 
whatever.  It  was  an  attempt  to  reduce  the  universe  to 
a necessary  order  of  development.  But  this  necessary 
order  is  wholly  incompatible  with  an  indeterminate  basis. 
Such  a necessity  of  development  is  itself  a determination 
or  attribute,  and  one  that  begs  the  whole  possibility  of 
anything  flowing  from  such  a basis.  The  attribute  of 
Thought,  moreover,  given  to  Substance, — i.  e.,  Divine  or 
Infinite  Thought, — is  wholly  void  even  of  consciousness; 
and  yet  this  is  ultimately  to  develop  into  the  modes  of 

* He  speaks  of  «a  certain  Greek  philosopher  named  Aristotle® 
( Tractatus , c.  vii. ) ; and  Bacon  is  <(a  little  confused.® 


88 


INTRODUCTION 


consciousness  known  as  human  souls.  This  involves  the 
absurdity  of  supposing  that  the  unintelligent  Substance 
as  virtually  a cause  or  ground,  ultimately  issues  in  intel- 
ligence. A demonstration  of  this  sort  is  the  merest 
incoherent  verbalism. 


XI.  Development  of  Cartesianism  in  the  Line  of 
Spinoza  — Omnis  Determinatio  Est  Negatio. 

According  to  Spinoza’s  interpretation  of  Descartes,  the 
latter  is  represented  as  holding  the  finite — whether  self- 
consciousness  or  extension  — to  be  mere  negation.  The 
real  is  the  infinite  substance  which  grounds  these.  Even 
if  this  interpretation  of  Descartes  were  shown  to  be 
erroneous,  which  it  is,  Spinoza  would  yet  force  this 
meaning  on  the  principles  of  Descartes  — especially  by 
means  of  the  principle,  or  at  least  the  assumption,  in- 
volved in  it — Omnis  determinatio  est  negatio.  This  prin- 
ciple, though  only  incidentally  stated  by  Spinoza,  is,  we 
are  told,  the  whole  of  him.  It  certainly  has  been  most 
profusely  used  by  those  who  have  followed  him  in  the 
same  line,  and  it  is  accepted  by  Hegel  as  virtually  the 
principle  of  his  own  dialectic.  It  is  necessary,  therefore, 
somewhat  fully  to  examine  it  in  itself  and  its  bearings. 
A precise  analysis  of  its  real  meaning  should  help  to  settle 
the  validity  of  a good  many  important  applications  of  it. 
The  Spinozistic  line  in  relation  to  Descartes  is  mainly 
this, — that  self-consciousness  and  extension  as  definite  or 
positive  attributes  — as,  in  fact,  implying  limit  — are  nec- 
essarily negative  of  what  is  above  and  beyond  themselves. 
In  fact,  they  do  not  imply  the  presence  of  the  real  by 
being  positive  or  definitely  self-consciousness  and  exten- 
sion. They,  in  this  respect,  rather  imply  the  absence  of 
the  real.  And  it  is  only  when  limit  or  definiteness  is 
removed  from  them  that  they  become  truly  real.  The 
true  real  is  the  infinite  substance  — rather,  perhaps,  the 
indeterminate.  Accordingly,  neither  the  self-conscious 
Ego  nor  the  reality  extension  have  any  proper  existence 
as  individual  substances  or  things.  Whatever  reality  they 
may  have  is  only  a mode  of  that  which  has  absolutely  no 
limit,  or  more  correctly,  of  that  to  which  no  limit  has 
been  assigned  — the  indeterminate. 


INTRODUCTION 


89 


1.  The  principle  expressed  in  the  phrase,  Omnis  deter- 
minatio  est  negatio  is,  as  employed  by  Spinoza,  identical 
with  that  of  abstraction  from  limit.  For  the  limit  of  the 
individual  requires  to  be  removed  at  each  step  of  progress 
to  the  only  true  reality,  the  indeterminate  substance.  But 
before  I examine  this  meaning  of  the  phrase,  it  is  neces- 
sary to  consider  it  in  its  general  signification,  and  to  see 
especially  how,  since  Hegel  gave  it  its  full  development, 
it  has  been  accepted  by  him  and  by  writers  of  his  school. 

This  principle  of  determination  is  explicitly  stated  in 
the  Logic  of  Hegel  ( I quote  from  the  Logic  of  the  Ency- 
clopaedic),  as  far  on  as  § 91,  where,  under  Quality,  he 
tells  us  that  the  foundation  of  all  determinateness  is 
negation  (as  Spinoza  says),  Omnis  determinate  est 
negation  Hegel  has  got  by  this  time  to  Quality, — There 
and  Then  Being  — as  a stage  in  the  deduction  from  Pure 
Being.  It  is  necessary,  therefore,  to  look  back  for  a 
moment  at  the  previous  stages  of  the  dialectical  process, 
and  to  see  how  this  principle  is  now  stated  for  the  first 
time.  We  have  previously  the  pre -suppositionless  stage 
of  Pure  Being,  with  its  necessary  implicate  Naught  or 
Non-Being,  and  the  resumption  of  the  two  moments  in 
Becoming.  We  have  the  whole  pretension  of  the  dia- 
lectic laid  bare.  We  have  the  pre-suppositionless  Pure 
Being;  we  have  its  necessary  self-movement  into  its 
opposite,  and  the  inter-connection  of  the  moments 
summed  up  in  Becoming;  the  pretension  that  those  self- 
evolved  determinations  are  the  predicates  of  Being.  Out 
of  Becoming,  as  a fresh  starting-point,  we  have  the 
moment  of  Quality  ( Daseyn ),  determinate  Being  in 
Space,  and  Time, — Something  ( Etwas ).  This  may  be 
regarded  as  the  first  step  of  the  dialectic  in  the  region 
of  definite  cognizable  reality.  I do  not  at  present  pro- 
pose to  discuss  those  positions  fully.  If  I did,  the  first 
question  I should  ask  would  be  whether  there  is  here 
an  absolute  pre-suppositionless  beginning.  I should  cer- 
tainly challenge  the  statement  that  pure  Being  as  a 
thought  is  pre-suppositionless.  Such  a thought  or  con- 
cept is  only  intelligible  in  my  consciousness;  and  the 
process,  at  least,  must  take  place  there  as  the  abstraction 
from,  and  therefore  the  correlative  of  the  concrete  being 
which  I already  know,  from  a source  different  from  pure 
thought.  Hegel’s  pure  Being  is  just  as  much  a shot  out 


90 


INTRODUCTION 


of  a pistol  as  Schelling’s  intuition  of  the  absolute,  which 
he  so  characterizes.  The  truth  is,  that  pure  being  as  a 
simple  abstraction  from  the  conditions  of  apprehended 
Being  supposes  an  abstracter — an  Ego,  or  thinker,  whose 
thought  also  is  a correlative  condition  of  its  possibility, 
and  who,  therefore,  is  at  the  beginning  as  much  as  the 
pure  Being  is.  Take  the  basis  of  the  system  as  pure 
Being,  or  as  a concrete  Some-being  of  consciousness,  how 
is  either  of  these  guaranteed  to  us  ? We  have  seen  what 
is  the  guarantee  of  Descartes.  It  is  intuition  regulated 
by  non-contradiction.  But  what  is  the  guarantee  of 
Hegel’s  basis  ? Mere  is,  or  being,  is  an  abstraction  from 
immediate  consciousness.  What  guarantees  this  conscious- 
ness ? What  grasps  this  abstraction  ? Nothing  whatever 
in  his  system.  There  is  nothing  to  give  the  one;  there 
is  nothing  to  guarantee  the  other.  He  has  thrown  away 
the  possibility  of  even  holding  the  pure  being  as  an  ab- 
straction: for  it  is  an  abstraction  from  subject  and 
attribute  — from  self-consciousness  and  its  act.  The 
isness  of  pure  Being  is  ex  hypothesi , not  deduced ; it  is  as 
little  guaranteed.  It  is  the  merest  meaningless  abstrac- 
tion. On  the  other  hand,  reinstate  self-consciousness 
and  its  act  of  abstraction:  this  act  is  a process  of  con- 
sciousness, as  much  as  the  act  of  doubt  is ; and  the  basis 
now  is  not  mere  Being,  or  pure  thought;  it  is  the  very 
definite  one  of  a self-conscious  thinker,  who  is  the 
ground  of  the  abstraction  and  of  the  whole  process  of 
development,  instead  of  being  a stage  or  moment  merely 
in  the  development.  This  self-consciousness  is  not  deduced 
at  least;  and  no  guarantee  can  be  found  for  it  save 
intuition  and  non-contradiction. 

2.  I should  deny,  further,  the  thought  of  pure  Being 
per  se,  as  a beginning;  or  a point  from  which  any  move- 
ment of  thought  is  possible.  How  can  pure  Being  be 
supposed  capable  of  movement,  or  of  passing  into  Noth- 
ing, and  thence  gathering  itself  up  into  the  unity  called 
Becoming  ? Can  the  abstraction  pure  Being  or  mere 
Being  as  conceived  by  my  intelligence,  pass  into  anything 
to  be  otherwise  named,  or  worthy  of  being  so  named, 
because  of  a difference  between  the  two  ? This  notion 
can  pass  into  another  notion,  ex  hypothesi , only  from  it- 
self,— of  its  own  power  of  motion.  We  are  told  that  it 
does  so  pass,  and  it  must  so  pass.  How  ? Because  it  has 


INTRODUCTION 


9i 


in  itself  an  inherent  negation,  it  must  negate  itself, — 
place  against  itself  its  simple  opposite  or  contradiction. 
It  is  not  meanwhile  explicitly  said  which  of  the  two. 
Now  I say  in  reply  that  the  concept  of  pure  Being  — 
mere  qualityless,  indeterminate  Being,  is  utterly  incon- 
sistent with  the  concept  of  any  inherent  necessity  of 
negation  or  movement  whatever.  Movement  and  neces- 
sity of  movement  are  determinations  — qualities  or  predi- 
cates which  are  wholly  incompatible  with  a purely 
indeterminate  concept  as  a beginning.  Pure  Being  is  the 
mere  Dead  Sea  of  thought,  and  once  in  it  there  is  no 
possibility  from  anything  it  contains  of  anything  what- 
ever different  from  itself,  or  worthy  of  being  named  as 
different,  being  evolved  out  of  it.  And  if  it  is  said  that 
the  mere  concept  of  pure  Being  involves  the  concept  of 
its  opposite,  non-Being,  I say,  in  reply,  in  that  case,  the 
beginning  was  not  from  pure  Being,  but  from  the  corre- 
lation of  Being  and  non-Being,  and  there  never  was  any 
movement  or  dialectical  passage  in  the  matter.  When 
thus  it  is  said,  for  example,  that  (<  pure  thought  * must 
issue  in  a world  of  space  and  time, — that  it  cannot  rest 
in  itself, — we  have  a virtual  confession  of  the  impossi- 
bility of  conceiving  (( pure  thought }>  per  se,  and  therefore, 
of  any  progress  or  movement  from  it  as  a starting-point. 
The  world  of  time,  at  least  the  singular  or  concrete,  is 
necessary  even  to  its  existence  as  a consciousness  at  all 
from  the  very  first.  It  means,  in  fact,  that  the  universal 
side  of  knowledge  cannot  be  realized  or  conceived  per  se, 
and  as  such  cannot  be  the  ground  of  any  evolution.  To 
tell  us  that  <(  pure  thought  ® is  synthetic,  is  simply  a form 
of  words  which  covers  the  begging  of  the  two  points  at 
issue, — first,  whether  there  is  pure  thought  to  begin  with, 
and  whether  pure  thought  can  be  qualified  as  synthetic 
or  anything  else.  The  real  meaning  of  synthetic  here  is, 
that  it  expresses  a relation  already  assumed  between  the 
universal  and  particular,  while  it  is  meant  to  suggest  evo- 
lution or  development  of  the  latter  out  of  the  former. 

3.  Besides,  to  say  this  — that  these  two  contradictories 
are  involved  in  a concept  — is  to  give  up  the  professed 
problem  of  deducing  the  one  from  the  other — that  is, 
of  solving  the  contradiction ; it  is  to  assume  simply  that 
the  contradiction  already  exists,  and  that  the  concept 
embodying  it  is  thinkable.  The  truth  is,  that  so  far  as 


92 


INTRODUCTION 


pure  thought  or  pure  Being  is  concerned,  there  is  and 
can  be  no  movement.  The  Becoming  which  is  con- 
jured up  to  express  its  completion  is  not  a product  of 
pure  thought  at  all;  and  it  might  further  be  readily- 
shown  that  this  concept  which  is  said  to  unite  the 
opposites  does  not  really  do  so.  It  has  no  unity  for 
absolute  Being  and  absolute  non-Being.  Nothing  must 
always  be  less  than  Being.  Becoming,  moreover,  is  a 
concept  which  has  meaning  in  relation  to  a definite 
experience,  where  a determinate  germ  or  form  of  being 
rises  to  its  own  completeness  or  totality,  as  the  seed 
to  the  tree.  But  it  is  wholly  inapplicable  as  a notion 
to  the  abstractions  Being  and  Not- Being  — the  falling 
of  one  abstraction  into  another,  or  the  stating  the  same 
qualityless  abstraction  in  different  words,  and  delud- 
ing oneself  that  one  has  got  different  concepts  even 
as  moments. 

4.  But  the  pretension  of  the  dialectic  is,  that  there  is 
here  from  the  first  an  application  of  the  movement  of 
negation.  Negation  is  the  impulse  of  the  whole  dialectic; 
it  is  the  means  by  which  pure  thought  moves  from  its 
mere  in-itselfness  to  the  successive  assertions  or  determi- 
nations of  thought  and  being,  to  quality,  quantity,  sub- 
stance, and  so  on.  Now  I challenge  the  dialectic  in  the 
first  place  with  a double  use,  and  an  abuse,  of  the  prin- 
ciple of  negation.  It  is  applied  equally  to  the  indeter- 
minate and  the  determinate.  It  is,  first  of  all,  applied 
to  the  mere  pure  qualityless  abstract  of  being.  This  is 
not  even  something,  not  an  Etwas , it  is  not  in  this  or 
that  space  of  time  — it  is,  to  begin  with,  above  relation 
and  category  of  any  sort,  it  is  not  compassable  by  the 
intuition  of  experience,  or  by  the  concept  of  the  under- 
standing. The  question  is,  Can  you  apply  to  this  the 
laws  of  identity  and  non-contradiction  ? Can  you  have 
either  affirmation  or  negation  in  any  proper  meaning  of 
those  words  ? Can  it  be  said  that  the  mere  indeterminate, 
call  it  Being  or  Thought,  is  identical  with  ;tself  or  differ- 
ent from  another  ? Or  can  an  opposite  of  any  sort  be 
put  against  it  ? The  laws  of  identity  and  non-contradic- 
tion are  well  known  as  to  their  nature  and  essence.  The 
nature  of  opposition,  especially  contradictory  opposition, 
in  any  form,  implies  a definite  or  determinate  to  begin 
with.  Something  is  at  least  cognized;  nay,  besides  qual- 


INTRODUCTION 


93 


ity  in  general,  even  definite  attribute  or  class,  ere  the 
negation  can  have  a definite  application  or  real  meaning 
at  all.  But  how  can  the  laws  of  identity  and  non-contra- 
diction apply,  when  the  alleged  starting-point  is  wholly 
indeterminate,  not  even  fixed  as  this  or  that  ? There  is 
only  the  mere  abstract  is  or  isness;  but  this  is  in  every- 
thing that  is.  It  is  thus  impossible  to  negate  except  by 
the  mere  abstract  is-not.  And  as  the  former  is  not  yet 
applied  to  anything  definite  or  determinate,  not  even  to 
something,  there  is  only  a possible  negation,  or  rather 
an  abstract  terminal  formula,  which  we  know  cannot  be 
applied  to  two  definite  concepts  at  once,  but  which  is  as 
yet  applied  to  neither.  This  is  a purely  hypothetical 
formula;  there  is  as  yet  no  actual  negation,  for  there  is  as 
yet  not  even  this  or  that  to  which  such  a formula  can 
be  applied.  The  purely  indeterminate  cannot  be  actually 
negated,  for  the  reason  that  the  negation  is  as  much  the 
indeterminate  as  the  so-called  positive  is;  and,  therefore, 
there  is  nothing  to  oppose  it  either  as  contrary  or  con- 
tradictory. 

The  delusion  thus  propagated  by  the  Hegelian  logic  is, 
that  this  vague  notion  of  being, — this  mere  indefinitude 
— in  fact,  even  mere  qualityless  being, — has  in  itself  a 
power  of  development.  It  has  really  nothing  of  the 
sort.  We  rise  out  of  it  through  a definite  and  accumu- 
lating experience  — not  through  a logical  or  rational 
development.  This  indefinite  is  mere  extension  — mere 
generalized  empty  width,  — and  unless  experience  of 
differences  or  differenced  things  come  to  our  aid,  it  will 
remain  the  same  vague  indefinite  for  ever  to  us.  The 
facts  or  details  of  our  experience  or  knowledge  cannot 
be  filled  up  by  any  deduction  from  mere  is  or  isness, — - 
even  from  knowing  that  something  is.  It  is  predicable 
of  those  different  facts  or  details;  but  they  cannot  be 
evolved  from  it.  In  other  words,  the  things  or  kinds  of 
things  in  the  universe  must  be  known  quite  otherwise 
than  by  mere  inference  from  our  first  knowledge.  This 
source  of  knowledge  is  simply  a successive  and  varying 
experience,  having  nothing  in  common  with  the  is  or 
isness  of  the  starting-point,  except  that  such  an  element 
is  involved  in  each  new  experience.  And  even  though 
is  gave  the  thought  of  difference,  — the  is-not, — this 
would  imply  no  real  being  or  possibility  of  advance. 


94 


INTRODUCTION 


This  is  but  a mere  ideal  negation,  which  a bad  logic 
galvanizes  into  a positive  or  reality. 

5.  But  it  may  be  supposed  that  the  dialectic  reaches 
stronger  ground  when  it  comes  down  to  Quality  or  De- 
terminate Being.  Here  it  is  emphatically  proclaimed 
that  Omnis  determinatio  est  negatio , — that  every  deter- 
mination not  only  implies  but  is  literally  negation. 

Let  us  hear  how  Hegel  himself  states  the  point: — 

<(  Quality,  as  existing  determinateness  in  contrast  to 
the  negation  which  is  contained  in  it,  but  is  distinguished 
from  it,  is  Reality.  Negation,  whieh  is  no  longer  an 
abstract  nothing,  but  a There  Being  and  Something,  is 
only  form  in  this;  it  is  other  Being.  Quality,  since  this 
other  Being  is  its  proper  determination,  yet,  in  the  first 
instance,  distinct  from  it,  is  Being  for  another, — a width 
of  Determinate  Being,  of  Somewhat.  The  Being  of  Qual- 
ity as  such,  contrasted  with  this  reference  connecting  it 
with  another,  is  Being-in-itself.  * <(  The  foundation,  * he 

adds,  (<of  all  determinateness  is  negation  (as  Spinoza  says 
Oninis  determinatio  est  negatio').'* 

Again : <(  Being  firmly  held  as  distinct  from  determi- 
nateness, the  In-itself  Being,  were  only  the  empty  ab- 
straction of  Being.  In  There-Being,  determinateness  is 
one  with  its  Being,  which  at  the  same  time,  posited  as 
negation,  is  bound,  limit.  Accordingly  Other-being  is  not 
an  equal  or  fellow  external  to  being,  but  is  its  own 
proper  moment.  Something  is,  through  its  quality,  first 
finite,  second  alterable,  so  that  finitude  and  alterableness 
belong  to  its  being.  * 

6.  Now  we  know  two  kinds  of  negation,  and  if  Hegeli- 
anism knows  a third,  let  it  vindicate  it  articulately.  In 
the  first  case,  we  have  pure  or  simple  logical  negation. 
We  can  deny  what  a concept  holds  or  affirms  absolutely 
or  merely,  without  putting  anything  whatever  in  its  place. 
We  can  negate  A by  not-A, — one  by  none, — some  by 
none, — and  the  result  is  zero.  We  can  negate,  on  the 
other  hand,  by  a positive  concept  which  yet  is  opposed 
to  the  positive  concept  with  which  we  start,  and  which 
we  place  in  negative  relation  to  it.  We  can  negate 
pleasure  by  pain, — green  by  red, — and  so  on.  This  is 
real  as  compared  with  formal  negation.  Now,  which  is 
used  by  the  Hegelian  dialectic  ? Obviously  not  the  former, 
— not  the  purely  logical  negation ; and  therefore  the  prog- 


INTRODUCTION 


95 


ress  of  the  dialectic  is  not  of  pure  thought  at  all  in 
even  a subordinate  sense  of  that  term.  Absolute  logical 
negation  leaves  nothing  in  its  place.  The  Something  — the 
Etwas, — being  negated,  leaves  no  positive  in  the  shape 
of  Other.  It  leaves  merely  the  ideal  concept  not  anything 

— or  nothing,  if  you  chose.  The  something  is  thus  a 
positive  against  a mere  negation;  but  by  a trick  of  lan- 
guage it  is  sought  to  contrast  this  is  or  something,  with 
an  other  or  positive  being.  This  is  unwarrantable. 
Other  or  Another  is  not  the  proper  negative  of  Some- 
thing or  Somewhat;  this  negative  is  none,  or  not-any. 
This  is  mere  negation,  not  position  at  all.  That  the 
opposite  of  Somewhat  is  more  than  a mere  negation  is 
simply  an  assumption  of  the  point  at  issue.  <(  Limit  in 
so  far  as  negation  of  something  is  not  abstract  non-being 
in  general,  but  a non-being  which  is,  or  that  which  we 
call  Other.”  The  questions  for  the  dialectic  here  are  the 
possibility  of  movement  from  Some  to  Other,  and  the 
nature  of  the  Other  as  compared  with  the  Some  or  Some- 
thing. This  passage  is  operated  wholly  by  negation, — 
by  the  negation  of  the  immanent,  ever  pressing  on  move- 
ment of  the  conditioning  thought  or  concept  passing  into 
negation.  And  every  determination  is  negation.  But  the 
is-not  is  no  development  of  is;  there  is  no  motion  or 
progress  from  the  one  to  the  other;  there  is  simple 
paralysis  of  all  motion ; and  there  is  as  little  possibility 
of  any  medium  either  between  or  above  them.  As  David 
Hume  pointed  out,  this  is  the  true  or  absolute  contra- 
diction. The  dialectic  at  the  earliest  stage,  and  especially 
later  in  the  case  of  Quality,  assumes  what  it  ought  to 
prove, — nay,  what  is  improvable, — that  the  negation  of  a 
positive  is  always  and  necessarily  itself  a positive.  Thought 
is  thus  baptized  synthetic : and  this  is  deemed  a sufficient 
basis  for  the  construction  of  the  universe. 

But  let  us  take  the  other  form  of  negation, — that  of 
mere  opposition  or  contrariety.  This  we  know  well.  Here 
we  negate  one  affirmative  concept  by  another  affirmative 
concept.  We  negate  the  Somewhat  by  Some  Other.  We 
negate  red  by  green, — black  by  white, — square  by  round, 

— and  so  on.  Now  we  have  got  beyond  the  formalism 
of  the  something  and  the  opposite, — the  position  and  the 
mere  negation.  We  are  now  dealing  with  definite  con- 
sents of  some  thing  and  other  thing.  But  how  do  we  get 


96 


INTRODUCTION 


the  some  other,  or  positive,  which  in  this  relation  we  set 
in  opposition  to  our  original  positive  ? Can  we  get  it  by 
pure  negation  ? This  has  been  shown  to  be  impossible. 
All  that  negation  implies  is  the  relative  assertion  of  non- 
existence or  non-reality.  This  implies  nothing  positive. 
If,  therefore,  we  set  positive  against  positive  as  in  real 
or  contrary  opposition,  we  oppose  one  concept  to  the 
first,  which  does  not  flow  from  that  first  by  negation.  In 
fact,  we  are  now  dealing  with  species  under  a genus, — - 
with  the  results  of  intuition,  experience,  and  classifica- 
tion,— results  only  possible,  in  the  first  instance,  through 
the  negative  regulation  of  the  logical  laws  of  identity 
and  non-contradiction;  and  we  are  setting  positive  con- 
cept against  positive  concept,  of  which  pure  thought 
knows  nothing  and  can  say  nothing.  We  are  now  really 
in  the  sphere  of  space  and  time.  Here  if  we  negate 
one  member  of  the  constituted  class  by  another  equally 
positive  we  know  both  members  independently.  But  we 
can  negate  even  under  contraries  when  we  are  ignorant 
of  the  precise  positive  opposite.  It  is  enough  if  the  posi- 
tive concept  be  opposed  to  some  one  of  its  possible  op- 
posites, for  I may  quite  well  say,  the  thing  spoken  of  is 
not  this  particular  species  under  the  genus;  it  is  some 
one  of  them,  yet  I do  not  know  which.  The  sum  is  either 
io,  or  12,  or  15,  or  20.  I know  it  is  not  lower  than  the 
first,  nor  higher  than  the  last;  which  I cannot  say.  A 
definite  opposite  goes  quite  beyond  pure  negation;  it  is 
a simple  matter  of  experience,  and  experience  alone.  So 
that,  strictly  considered,  even  real  or  contrary  opposition 
does  not  of  itself  imply  a definite  contrary  concept;  the 
negation  of  a positive  concept,  when  already  subsumed 
under  a class,  implies  only  the  possibility  of  its  being 
found  in  some  concept  or  other  under  the  sphere  of  that 
class. 

From  this  we  may  gather  the  following  as  the  rules 
of  determination: — 

a.  Determination  is  the  condition  of  negation;  there  is 
no  actual  negation  unless  in  relation  to  actual  determina- 
tion. Negation,  therefore,  as  a moment  of  progress  or 
movement,  cannot  follow  the  purely  indeterminate.  The 
formula  is  and  is-not,  here,  is  but  a terminal  abstract, 
and  indicates  only  the  possible  or  hypothetical  applica- 
tion of  the  relation  to  content  not  yet  supplied.  The 


INTRODUCTION 


97 


so-called  movement  on  the  principle  of  negation  of  Pure 
Being  into  Pure  Nothing  is  meaningless. 

b.  A determination  does  not  imply  a greater  negation 
than  is  requisite  to  preserve  its  reality  as  an  affirmation. 
This  applies  both  to  contradictories  and  to  contraries  — 
e.  g.,  Contradictory,  as  one  and  none;  contrary,  as 
veracity  and  untruthfulness,  or  the  ideal  exclusion  of  the 
violation  of  the  law  of  truth-speaking.  This  obviously 
holds  in  relation  to  contraries,  where  there  is  a.  limita- 
tion to  certain  possible  members  of  a class.  Hence  it  is 
erroneous  to  maintain  that  every  ( indeed  any ) negation 
is  necessarily  as  positive  as  the  affirmation  or  deter- 
mination. 

7.  The  doctrine  thus  maintained  by  Hegel,  under  the 
category  of  quality,  that  every  determinate  being  or  ob- 
ject of  thought  leads  directly  to  that  which  is  the  other, 
or  negation  of  itself,  is  erroneous.  But  it  is  not  less  a mis- 
take to  maintain  that  every  determinate  object  of  expe- 
rience is  what  it  is,  only  because  it  is  not  something 
else.  This  doctrine  is  not  correct  because  a determinate 
object  of  space  and  time  — say  hardness  or  resistance  — 
is  not  what  it  is  mainly  or  only  because  it  is  not  its  op- 
posite, contradictory  or  contrary.  On  the  contrary,  the 
opposite,  whether  contradictory  or  contrary,  is  merely  a 
limitative  concept  in  respect  of  its  positive  reality,  and 
lies  necessarily  in  a different  sphere,  or  one  negatively 
related  to  it.  The  reality  of  the  object  does  not 
depend  on  its  not  being  in  the  other  sphere;  but  the 
existence  of  this  sphere  is  relative  to  the  previously 
determinate  character  of  the  object.  This  determi- 
nate character  it  has  obtained  as  the  definite  effect 
of  a definite  cause.  Otherwise,  we  should  have  the 
absurdity  that  the  whole  contents  of  space  and  time 
could  be  determined,  not  by  science  or  inductive  re- 
search, but  by  the  negation  successively  of  determinate 
objects;  and  as  in  the  case  of  real  opposition,  this  nega- 
tion might  be  many  and  various,  we  migiit  .have  the  most 
conflicting  results  vaunted  as  equally  the  results  of  nec- 
essary deduction.  Nay,  in  every  case  the  determinate 
would  be  explained  by  what  is  the  very  opposite  of  its 
nature,  as  resistance  by  non-resistance,  and  sentiency  by 
insentiency.  The  fallacy  here  consists  in  assuming  that 
mutually  exclusive  concepts  are,  as  correlative,  identical, 
7 


9s 


INTRODUCTION 


whereas  they  are  simply  limitative.  This  fallacy  per- 
vades nearly  the  whole  logic  of  Hegel.  It  comes  out 
transparently  in  his  doctrine  of  Essence,  and  in  the  de- 
duction of  Difference  from  Identity. 

It  is,  further,  assumed  in  this  doctrine  that  a con- 
cept, as  possessed  of  definite  qualities,  is  not  an  object 
even  of  thought  or  meaning,  unless  in  so  far  as  the  con- 
cept of  the  negation  of  those  qualities  gives  them  reality 
in  thought;  whereas  the  reverse  is  true, — the  negative 
conception  is  conditioned  by  the  positive,  and  has  itself 
no  meaning  unless  in  relation  to  that  positive.  The  ne- 
gation subsists  through  the  positive;  not  the  positive 
through  it.  In  the  case  particularly  of  contrary  oppo- 
sition, while  the  positive  concept  is  one  and  definite, 
there  may  be  many  negations  of  it, — e.  g.,  green  may 
be  equally  negated  by  red,  black,  or  blue.  But  its  real- 
ity as  a concept  does  not  depend  on  our  knowledge  of 
which  of  these  is  its  counterposed  negative. 

8.  Closely  connected  with  this  is  another  sense  of  the 
principle  Omnis  determinatio  est  negatio.  And  it  is  this 
sense  in  which  it  is  brought  especially  to  bear  on  the 
first  principle  of  Descartes.  It  is  assumed  as  the  char- 
acter of  determination  itself  that  it  is  a negation, — a 
negation  of  something  or  some  concept  preceding  it, 
really  or  logically.  This  meaning  of  the  principle  seems 
to  be  common  alike  to  Spinoza  and  Hegel;  and  it  is 
necessary  to  enable  them  to  force  on  Descartes  the 
meaning  which  it  is  averred  his  system  truly  bears  — 
viz,  that  the  real  is  not  to  be  found  in  the  determinate 
of  our  experience,  but  in  that  higher  sphere  of  which 
it  is  simply  a negation.  Spinoza  illustrates  the  prin- 
ciple by  reference  to  Body.  But  the  results  can  hardly 
be  said  to  justify  us  in  carrying  it  further.  To  know 
matter  as  it  really  is,  we  must  abstract  from  any  limit 
which  it  possesses.  It  is  figured,  for  example;  but 
Spinoza  tells  us  that  this  is  a mere  negation.  It  must 
therefore  be  got  rid  of.  Matter  viewed  infinitely  or  in- 
definitely can  have  no  limit;  limit  belongs  only  to  finite 
or  determinate  bodies  — that  is,  they  are  defective  in 
possessing  limit  at  all.  They  are  not  truly  matter. 
Matter  is  the  non-figured.  The  fallacy  here  is  not  far 
to  seek.  Matter  in  space  is  seen  by  me  only  as  it  exists, 
a colored  and  extended  surface,  limited  by  coadjacent 


INTRODUCTION 


99 


color  and  extension.  Difference  of  color  is  necessary  to 
our  apprehension  of  figure  in  material  bodies,  and  of 
difference  of  figures.  If  I could  suppose  that  there  is 
no  color  in  bodies,  there  would  of  course  be  no  differ- 
ence of  color,  so  therefore  no  difference  of  figure.  But 
with  the  absence  of  figure,  would  matter  remain  matter 
to  our  vision  ? or  with  the  entire  absence  of  extended 
limit,  or  limit  to  touch,  would  matter  remain  matter  to 
touch  ? Does  the  taking  away  of  the  limit  or  amount 
of  extension  which  a body  possesses,  leave  or  render 
that  body  indefinite  or  infinite  in  extension  ? Does  the 
taking  away  this  limit  in  succession  from  all  the  bodies 
of  my  experience  leave  or  render  these  indefinitely  or 
infinitely  extended  ? There  cannot  be  greater  miscon- 
ception than  in  supposing  this.  The  true  residuum  in 
such  a case  is  not  body  infinitely  extended,  it  is  simply 
the  non-extended;  for  with  the  extinction  of  the  limit  to 
the  extension  of  the  body  — say  a red  line  with  begin- 
ning and  end  — there  is  extinction  absolutely  of  the 
extension  which  I perceive  or  can  know  in  the  circum- 
stances; that  is,  there  is  the  extinction  in  every  case  of 
the  given  body  altogether.  The  residuum  is  a mere 
blank  indeterminate  for  thought. 

But  take  this  principle  generally.  Let  us  see  its  issue. 
We  have  to  abstract  from  the  limits  of  the  finite,  and 
the  residuum  is  the  real  — the  infinite.  It  is  indeed  the 
only  reality;  the  finite  is  only  apparent  or  illusory.  Now, 
what  is  the  residuum  on  such  a process  ? The  mere  vague 
indeterminate  of  thought,  and  nothing  more  or  else  — 
the  so-called  substance,  in  fact,  of  Spinoza.  Let  the  finite 
thing  be  my  self-consciousness.  I am  conscious  of  an 
act  of  volition,  at  a given  time.  To  know  the  reality, 
I have  to  abstract  from  the  limits  of  this  act.  Volition 
is  a limit;  so  is  self,  and  so  equally  is  consciousness;  so 
also  is  my  being  at  a given  time:  all  these  must  be  dis- 
carded, and  what  remains  ? No  object  of  thought  what- 
ever. There  is,  if  you  choose,  the  vague  possibility  of 
thought.  Because  I cannot  actually  deprive  myself  of 
consciousness,  but  must  always  be  supposed  conscious 
of  some  process  of  thought  even  in  abstracting  from  the 
limits  of  thought  itself,  this  vague  possibility  of  determi- 
nation remains  to  me.  But  nothing  actually  is  as  an 
object  of  thought;  for  if  all  limits  be  supposed  taken 


too 


INTRODUCTION 


away,  nothing  can  be  predicated.  I cannot  now  even  say 
that  the  residuum  is,  for  that  would  be  a limit.  I have 
now  reached  an  absolutely  vague  form  of  the  suspense 
of  thought  and  knowledge  itself.  This  may  be  called 
the  infinite — it  is  simply  the  absence  of  thought  and  pre- 
dication. It  may  be  called  reality,  and  the  only  reality  — 
it  would  be  better  to  call  it  nonsense. 

9.  To  the  Hegelian  the  substance  of  Spinoza  is  a pure 
indeterminate.  The  negation  of  the  finite  or  of  finite 
determination  is  held  to  be  allowable  and  just,  and  with 
it  the  abolition  of  the  distinctive  character  of  the  mind 
and  body  of  our  experience.  But  Spinoza’s  defect  is, 
that  he  does  not  reach  a proper  first  or  whole.  With 
him  it  is  the  absence  of  quality  rather  than  the  presence 
of  Spirit.  It  is  pure  affirmation  without  negation ; 
whereas  it  should  be  affirmation  that  necessarily  negates 
itself  by  affirming  the  finite.  It  is  a simple  indetermi- 
nate or  absence  of  determination;  it  ought  to  be  that 
which  is  self-determining,  the  living  individual  whole 
or  spirit,  which  manifests  itself  in  all  that  is.  But  I 
maintain  that  this  absolutely  indeterminate  is  the  true 
and  logical  residuum  of  the  abstraction  from  all  limit. 
This  process  will  not  yield  a positive  in  any  form. 
Finite  self  and  consciousness  being  abstracted  from, 
there  can  remain  no  infinite  self  and  consciousness.  For 
we  are  not  here  saying  that  the  degree  of  the  quality  is 
increased,  — as  when  we  say  that  there  is  intelligence 
higher  than  our  intelligence ; but  we  are  seeking  to  throw 
off  limit  and  quality  altogether.  The  very  limit  is  a 
negation,  — a negation  of  the  unlimited.  The  void  inde- 
terminate cannot  be  filled  up  by  the  Infinite  Spirit.  Nor 
can  we  properly  be  said  to  have  reached  the  knowledge 
of  a whole  which  includes  our  self-consciousness  as  a 
part — whatever  that  may  mean.  This  were  simply  to 
take  up  the  discarded  limits,  the  definite  predicates  of 
self  and  consciousness  — and  baptize  them  infinite  self 
and  consciousness.  The  abstraction  must  be  done  in  good 
faith.  Self,  without  or  apart  from  limit,  is  to  me 
no-self;  and  consciousness,  unless  as  a definite  conscious- 
ness, as  a conscious  act  at  a given  time,  is  no  consciousness. 
Self  and  consciousness  may  indeed  be  regarded  as  logical 
concepts.  Self  and  consciousness  are  capable  of  being 
thought  by  me  as  notions  or  as  names  for  classes  of 


INTRODUCTION 


IOI 


things.  But  as  such  they  have  their  limits  or  attributes; 
they  are  what  they  are,  though  determination  and  attri- 
bution, like  other  notions;  and  they  are  realizable  by  me 
only  in  connection  with  individual  instances  of  them. 
This  is  a totally  different  position  from  the  abstraction 
from  their  limits ; in  fact,  it  is  impossible  under  such  an 
abstraction.  The  residuum,  accordingly,  of  this  abstrac- 
tion is  not  an  infinite  self  or  self-consciousness ; it  is  simply 
a vague  indeterminate,  which  is  neither  thought  nor  be- 
ing, and  which  is  possible  at  all  or  conceivable  only 
because  while  abstracting  from  all  limits  I surreptitiously 
retain  the  limits  of  self-consciousness  and  thought.  To 
call  this  a whole  in  which  I am  included  as  a part,  is  to 
apply  an  illegitimate  analogy.  Whole  and  part  imply 
limitation  as  much  as  finite  self-consciousness  does;  and 
we  are  not  entitled  to  seek  to  express  the  absolute 
abstraction  from  all  limits  by  correlation  or  limitation. 

It  may,  of  course,  be  said  that  abstraction  from  the 
limits  of  the  Ego  of  consciousness  gives  us  the  notion 
of  an  Ego  in  general.  The  Ego  of  my  consciousness  is 
an  individual  embodiment  of  the  notion  of  a universal 
Ego.  By  abstracting  from  limits  — that  is,  considering 
me  as  but  an  Ego  — or  one  of  the  Egos,  I get  to  the 
universal  notion  — Ego,  the  Ego.  <(  I ® is  predicable  of 
me;  it  is  predicable  of  others,  it  is  predicable  of  God. 
But  what  then  becomes  of  the  individuality  which  is 
attributed  to  the  infinite  Ego,  or  infinite  self-conscious- 
ness ? How  can  <(  I,  ® the  individual,  be  in  any  sense  a 
part  or  manifestation  of  this  infinite  Ego,  if  <(  I ” and 
” He”  are  but  exemplifications  of  a common  notion  ? 

io.  There  is  a sense,  no  doubt,  in  which  we  must  sup- 
pose that  finite  self-consciousness  is  related  to  something 
beyond  itself.  As  a reality  in  time,  it  has  relations  to 
other  points  of  being  in  time;  and  we  must  go  back  to 
a ground  of  it,  either  in  or  above  temporal  conditions. 
But  the  question  at  present  is  not  whether  this  be  so  or 
not;  or  whether  we  can  reach  a solution  of  this  problem; 
but  whether  in  the  way  indicated  we  do  or  can  connect 
or  identify  our  finite  self-consciousness  with  what  is  here 
called  an,  or  the,  Infinite  self-consciousness. 

The  main  objection  to  this  view  has  been  anticipated 
in  the  criticism  of  the  principle  of  determination  involv- 
ing negation.  If  in  affirming  my  self-consciousness,  I 


102 


INTRODUCTION 


necessarily  and  knowingly  negate  an  infinite  self-conscious- 
ness by  imposing  a limit  upon  it,  I must  be  first  of  all 
conscious  of  this  infinite  self-conscious  being.  He  is 
necessarily  first  in  the  order  of  my  knowledge.  Nega- 
tion means  previous,  at  least  conditioning,  affirmation. 
Conscious  limitation  means  a previous  consciousness  of 
the  absence  of  limit.  I can  only  consciously  impose  limit 
on  that  which  had  no  limit,  by  knowing  first  of  all  the 
unlimited. 

Now  this  reduces  the  whole  process  to  absurdity  and 
self-contradiction.  If  I know  this  infinite  self-conscious- 
ness which  I negate  in  asserting  myself,  I must  know 
both  before  I know  and  before  I am.  My  knowledge  no 
longer  begins  with  me  being  conscious,  but  with  me  be- 
ing conscious  not  of,  but  as,  an  infinite  self-conscious- 
ness, and  that  when  as  yet  I am  not  distinguished  from 
it  as  either  existent  or  conscious.  Or  do  I distinguish 
myself  from  this  infinite  self-consciousness  when  I know 
it  ? Then  what  becomes  of  its  infinity?  And  how  then 
am  I a mere  negation  of  it  or  a moment  of  it  ? Am  I 
identified  with  the  primary  consciousness  of  it  ? Then 
what  becomes  of  me  and  my  knowledge  ? And  how  can 
I be  said  to  negate  this  infinite  self-consciousness  which 
I am  in  order  that  I may  be  ? 

But  the  truth  is,  that  if  every  determination  is  a nega- 
tion of  a previous  determination,  there  never  was  any 
determination  at  all  to  begin  with.  Knowledge  or  de- 
termination never  could  have  a beginning;  for  as  any 
given  determination  is  only  a negation  of  another  deter- 
mination, and  dependent  on  this  other,  every  determina- 
tion is  a negation.  But  the  negation  at  the  same  time, 
needs  a determination  as  a condition  of  its  existence  — 
that  is,  it  needs  what,  by  the  very  conditions  of  the  prob- 
blem,  is  impossible.  Such  a statement  implies  not  only  the 
non-commencement  of  knowledge  — it  implies  the  very 
subversion  of  the  conception  of  knowledge ; for  it  ends 
in  identifying  affirmation  and  negation  — z.  e.,  in  pure  non- 
determination. 

ix.  But  what,  it  may  be  asked,  is  the  moral  bearing 
of  such  a doctrine  ? In  order  to  get  the  truly  real,  the 
first  limit  that  must  disappear  here  is  our  own  indi- 
viduality; we  are  no  longer  truly  one;  we  are  not  really 
distinguished  from  the  infinite  substance  as  individuals; 


INTRODUCTION 


103 


we  have  no  independent  existence  or  reality.  But  take 
away  the  notion  with  which  we  delude  ourselves  that  we 
have  an  existence  in  any  way  distinct  from  the  substance 
of  all,  and  a good  deal  else  must  go.  Good  and  evil, 
freedom,  responsibility,  all  these  must  disappear  with  our 
personality.  It  is  because  we  think  ourselves  as  distinct 
from  the  substance  which  is  identified  with  God,  that  we 
are  conscious  of  doing  the  right  or  the  wrong,  have  merit 
or  demerit.  But  we  may  give  up  these  thoughts  alto- 
gether; they  have  no  reality;  we  need  not  trouble  our- 
selves either  about  good  or  evil,  pity  or  repentance,  pride 
or  humility.  They  are  all  the  same  in  reality.  Personality 
as  a limitation  is  a mere  negation,  is  unreal;  the  only 
true  reality  is  the  unlimited  substance.  To  it  all  person- 
ality is  indifferent;  to  it  also  necessarily  is  all  good  and 
evil ; these  are  mere  temporary  limitations  of  its  develop- 
ment. Regarded  from  the  finite  point  of  view,  good  and 
evil  are  delusively  distinguished;  but  these  seeming  dif- 
ferences disappear  the  moment  they  are  contemplated 
from  the  point  of  view  of  the  infinite  substance.  All  that 
is,  is  alike  to  it ; all  is  equally  what  it  is ; there  is  really 
ultimately  no  difference  of  right  or  wrong  in  the  one  — 
that  is,  in  the  universe. 

As  for  the  abolition  of  the  temporal  distinction  of  good 
and  evil,  and  their  identification  in  the  absolute  one  or 
substance,  all  that  need  be  said  is,  that  whatever  be  the 
ultimate  solution  of  the  mystery  of  good  and  evil — whether 
absorption  or  sublimation,  or  elevation  of  moral  will  in 
the  universe  — this  Spinozistic  solution  is  obviously  none. 
It  is  the  mere  audacity  of  reckless  assertion  to  say  that 
there  is  neither  good  nor  evil  in  time  — that  neither 
temporally  is  real;  it  is  a misconception,  moreover,  to 
suppose  that  abstraction  of  the  differences  between  good 
and  evil  really  identifies  them;  the  result  is  not  identifi- 
cation, but  the  destruction  of  each  in  thought;  for  the 
difference  being  abstracted,  neither  remains  to  be  identi- 
fied with  the  other.  And  that  they  are  the  same  in  or 
to  the  eternal  substance,  is  only  vindicable  on  the  sup- 
position that  this  substance  is  neither  intelligent  nor 
moral,  but  a name  for  the  suspension  of  both  func- 
tions. 

II.  But  it  may  be  worth  while,  in  closing  this  section, 
to  look  for  a moment  at  the  correction  and  supplement 


104 


INTRODUCTION 


of  Spinoza,  as  put  by  Hegel  himself.  “Germany,®  as 
Trendelenburg  tells  us,  “ knows  the  formula  by  heart 
that  Hegel’s  great  merit  is  that  he  defines  God  as  a 
subject,  in  contradistinction  to  Spinozism.  which  defines 
him  as  a substance.®  “Substance,®  says  Hegel,  “is  the 
principle  of  the  philosophy  of  Spinoza.  But  this  prin- 
ciple is  incomplete.  Substance  is  doubtless  an  essential 
moment  of  the  development  of  the  idea;  but  it  is  never- 
theless not  the  idea  itself;  it  is  the  idea  under  the  lim- 
ited form  of  necessity.  God  is  without  doubt  necessity 
or  the  absolute  thing,  but  he  is  also  a person,  and  to 
this  Spinoza  has  not  risen.  Spinoza  was  a Jew,  and  he 
placed  himself  at  the  oriental  point  of  view,  according 
to  which  all  that  which  is  finite  only  appears  as  transitory 
and  passing.  The  defect  of  his  system  is  the  absence  of 
the  Western  principle  of  individuality  which  first  appeared 
in  a philosophical  form,  contemporaneously  with  Spinoza, 
in  the  monadology  of  Leibnitz.® 

The  points  of  the  deduction  are  these: — 

1.  The  tie  which  connects  things,  which  causes  a thing 
to  enter  into  actuality  as  soon  as  its  conditions  are  ful- 
filled, is  Necessity. 

2.  This  Necessity,  considered  in  itself,  is  Substance  — 
the  point  of  view  of  Spinoza. 

3.  But  substance,  as  absolute  power,  is  determined 
in  relation  to  Accident.  It  thus  operates  — becomes 
Causality. 

4.  Substance  is  thus  cause,  inasmuch  as,  passing  into 
accident,  it  is  reflected  upon  itself,  and  thus  becomes  the 
original  thing  ( urspriingliclie  Sac  he  — i.  e. , thing  presup- 
posed in  the  effect). 

5.  The  effect  is  distinguished  from  the  cause;  but  this 
distinction,  as  immediate  or  posited,  is  to  be  abolished. 
Because  the  cause  operates,  there  is  another  substance — 
the  effect  — upon  which  the  action  happens.  This,  as 
substance,  acts  in  opposition,  or  reacts  on  the  first  sub- 
stance. There  is  action  and  reaction.  Causality  passes 
into  the  relation  of  Reciprocity  of  action. 

6.  The  self-dependence  of  the  substance  thus  issues  in 
several  self-dependents,  and  thus  the  generated,  like  the 
generating,  is  substance ; and  because  causes  and  effects 
act  and  react,  these  are  self-balancing.  Effects  are  causes. 
The  substance  thus  remains  in  this  change-relation  iden- 


INTRODUCTION 


105 


tical  with  itself.  And  herein  lies  the  truth, — the  concilia- 
tion of  Necessity  and  Freedom. 

In  other  words,  substance  regarded  simply  in  relation 
to  its  attributes  or  accidents  is  a necessary  or  fatal  rela- 
tion ; regarded  as  cause  operating  effect,  it  is  free  or  attains 
to  freedom,  because  what  it  produces  necessarily  is  from 
itself  and  identical  with  itself,  is  itself  cause,  and  thus 
remains  <(  with  itself.  * Substance  in  relation  to  accidents 
is  out  of  itself,  or  in  relation  to  what  is  out  of  itself ; but 
substance  as  cause  in  relation  to  its  effect  is  as  thus 
cause  identical  with  itself,  and  yet  combines  self-identity 
with  development. 

There  is  hardly  a statement  in  this  series,  or  a link 
of  connection,  which  might  not  be  properly  challenged. 
What  does  the  whole  amount  to  but  an  identification  of 
the  relation  of  substance  and  accident  with  that  of  cause 
and  effect  ? But  apart  from  this,  what  is  the  identity 
introduced  ? Simply  the  identity  or  rather  proportional 
energy  of  substance  as  cause  with  effect  as  determined 
result.  Is  this  identity  of  substantial  cause  with  itself  ? 
Will  any  one  maintain  that  this  is  so  in  relation  to 
physical  transmutation,  or  in  relation  to  mental  mani- 
festation ? Is  it  so  in  any  act  of  volition  ? Then  what 
is  the  sense,  if  there  is  any  coherent  meaning  at  all,  in 
the  position  that  accident  or  effect  is  cause  in  respect 
of  the  substance  or  cause  by  which  it  is  produced  ? 
Does  the  reflection  or  so-called  reaction  of  an  effect  on 
its  cause  constitute  it  a cause  in  respect  of  its  own  cause  ? 
Substances  may  generate  other  substances,  and  causes 
other  causes;  but  these  are  so  not  in  respect  of  their 
own  substances  or  causes,  but  in  respect  of  the  accidents 
or  effects  which  in  their  turn  follow  from  them.  This 
is  simply  a specimen  of  the  common  Hegelian  fallacy 
that  correlatives,  as  mutually  reflecting  upon  or  implying 
each  other,  are  identical.  This,  though  really  the  vital 
point  of  the  whole  Logic,  referring  as  it  does  to  the 
development  of  Spirit,  is  about  the  worst  and  weakest 
specimen  of  so-called  deduction  in  the  system. 

This  process  is  brought  forward  as  the  true  generative 
or  creative  process  of  the  universe  of  God  and  Man. 
The  theory  has  advanced  on  Spinoza;  it  has  introduced 
negation,  superseded  his  pure  affirmation,  and  solved 
the  problems  of  the  infinite  and  finite, — of  Liberty  and 


io6 


INTRODUCTION 


Necessity.  Substance  has  now  become  subject  or  spirit; 
it  is  on  the  eve  of  passing  into,  or  rather  has  in  it  the 
power  of,  the  Concept  ( Begriff ),  which  posits  in  itself 
differences  which  return  to  unity  with  itself. 

The  process,  moreover,  is  not  only  the  way  in  which 
we  may  best  think  of  God,  but  it  is  God  — God  passing 
before  us  in  the  creation  of  himself  and  the  universe. 
He  is  thus  far  on  his  way  to  his  true  being,  in  the 
complete  realization  of  the  process,  in  which,  starting 
from  the  primeval  nothing,  he  creates  himself  and  the 
universe  by  a series  of  nots  by  which  he  is  sustained 
and  enriched. 

He  is  Substance  developed  into  Cause,  and  thus  into 
Concept  and  so  regarded  as  conscious  subject  or  spirit. 
He  operates,  and  in  the  operation  remains  identical  with 
himself.  But  how  is  either  consciousness,  freedom,  or 
purpose  provided  for  here  ? Substance  is  under  a neces- 
sity of  passing  into  cause,  and  cause  again  into  effect, 
which  is  counter-cause.  What  is  there  here  beyond  fatal 
evolution  ? If  substance  merely  produces  substance  and 
cause  cause,  what  provision  is  there  here  for  conscious- 
ness or  purpose  ? Have  we  yet  come  to  subject  or  spirit  ? 
Have  we  yet  come  to,  or  made  the  least  approach  to,  a 
unity  of  self-consciousness  which  is  identical  with  itself, 
or  have  we  the  slightest  provision  for  conscious  end  or 
purpose  in  the  development  ? What  sort  of  freedom, 
moreover,  is  that  which  is  compatible  with  fatal  emana- 
tion, provided  only  the  spring  or  source  of  that  emanation 
be  either  substance  or  cause  itself,  and  the  process  of 
emanation  necessary  ? Is  this  the  highest  kind  of  free- 
dom, or  the  freedom  which  we  are  to  attribute  to  Deity  ? 
It  is  infinitely  short  of  the  notion  of  freedom  in  our  own 
experience.  <(  In  necessary  emanation  all  is  virtually  pre- 
determined, and  freedom,  though  proclaimed  the  essence 
of  spirit,  is  necessity  for  the  individual.®  It  is  the  free- 
dom of  which  the  material  mass  would  be  conscious,  if 
it  were  conscious  at  all,  when  let  loose  from  the  tie 
which  bound  it  to  the  height  it  descended  to  the  earth. 
Or,  as  Trendelenburg  has  well  put  it : (<  Freedom,  a grand 
word,  has  thus  in  this  relation  no  other  content  than  this 
comfort  of  the  substance,  that  the  upspringing  are  still 
substances,  and  the  effects  as  working  against  are  again 
causes.  This  relation  is  the  most  abstract  reflection 


INTRODUCTION 


107 


everywhere  applicable,  where  anything  moves.  Who  ever 
called  it  Freedom  ? Then  were  necessity  even  freedom, 
if  the  master  strikes  the  slave ; for  therein  are  they 
identical  that  both  are  substances;  and  the  slave  who 
gives  up  his  back  is  operating  in  this  opposite  action,  as 
the  master  in  the  first  cause.” 


XII.  Hegelian  Criticism  — The  Ego  and  the  Infinite. 

The  attempt  to  Hegelianize  Descartes  seeks  to  correct 
him  in  what  he  said,  and  to  bring  out  what  he  meant  to 
say,  or  at  least  ought  to  have  said.  It  refers,  of  course, 
particularly  in  the  first  instance,  to  his  Cogito  ergo  sum. 
That  has  to  get  a new  meaning,  or  at  least  aspect,  be- 
fore it  can  be  accepted  as  final  or  sufficient.  Let  us  see 
how  the  thing  is  to  be  managed.  The  scope,  sense,  and 
guarantee  of  the  first  principle  have  already  been  ex- 
plained. What  is  the  Hegelian  view  ? 

We  are  told,  in  Hegelian  language,  that  the  Cogito  ergo 
sum  is  not  a sufficiently  deep  or  primary  basis  of  philos- 
ophy. A mere  certainty  is  not  enough.  The  certainty 
must  be  primary,  nothing  actually,  but  all  things  poten- 
tially. The  certainty  which  it  gives  does  not  lie  at  the 
root  of  things.  It  implies  a dualism  of  thought  and 
being;  we  must  therefore  go  beyond  it  to  something 
more  fundamental.  Philosophy  (<  must  penetrate  to  a 
stage  where  thought  and  being  are  one  — to  the  absolute 
unity  of  both,  which  precedes  their  disruption  into  the 
several  worlds  of  Nature  and  Mind.  It  must  show  us 
the  very  beginning  of  thought,  before  it  has  come  to  the 
full  consciousness  of  itself.” 

Now  whence  is  this  must,  this  necessity  of  penetration 
to  an  absolute  unity,  whatever  that  may  mean  ? How  is 
that,  when  we  are  supposed  to  be  seeking  a beginning  of 
philosophy,  we  are  able  dogmatically  to  lay  down  its 
prerequisites  in  this  fashion  ? Have  we  already  a phi- 
losophy of  what  a philosophy  ought  to  be  ? In  that  case, 
how  can  we  be  supposed  to  be  seeking  the  beginning  of 
any  philosophy  ? Surely  it  is  more  in  accordance  with  all 
rules  of  sound  scientific  and  philosophical  procedure  to  see 
whether  we  can  go  backward  or  upward  to  this  unity, 
after  we  have  studied  the  facts  and  the  conceptions  which 


io8 


INTRODUCTION 


they  involve,  than  to  assume  that  there  must  be  such  an 
absolute  unity  for  philosophy;  and  further,  that  we  must 
be  able  to  know  it,  and  to  demonstrate  all  forms  of  reality 
from  it  as  a common  basis.  What  is  this  but  to  assume, 
at  the  outset,  a particular  solution  of  the  great  problem 
of  philosophy,  while  a more  modest  and  circumspect 
method  would  expect  such  a solution,  whatever  its  nature 
might  be  only  at  the  end,  and  after  careful  inquiry  ? 

1.  One  is  anxious  to  know  precisely  the  points  of  the 

proof  for  this  Hegelian  representation  of  the  imperfec- 
tion of  Descartes’  doctrine  and  the  necessity  of  its  own. 
There  seem  to  be  two  main  grounds  of  proof.  These  are 
two  statements  or  principles,  which  are  given  in  a some- 
what dogmatic  fashion,  as  apparently  self-evident.  For 
it  is  a characteristic  of  this  pre-suppositionless  philosophy 
that  it  more  than  any  other  makes  assumptions  without 
proffering  either  proof  or  warrant  of  them.  The  one 
alleged  principle  is  that,  (<  to  be  conscious  of  a limit  is  to 
transcend  it.®  Or,  more  particularly,  we  are  to  identify 
<(the  consciousness  of  self  as  thinking  with  transcending 
the  limits  of  its  own  particular  being,  and  so  with  the 
consciousness  or  idea  of  God.  ® <(  Self-consciousness  has  a 

negative  element  in  it, — that  is,  something  definite,  and 
therefore  limited.®  This  is  a statement  of  the  principle, 
and  also  a hint  of  its  immediate  application.  The  other 
principle  is  the  well-known  Spinozistic  aphorism  that  de- 
termination is  negation, — Chnnis  determinatio  est  negatio. 

The  two  principles  now  mentioned  very  closely  coin- 
cide. The  negation  refers  to  the  qualities  of  individual 
objects;  the  abstractions  from  limits  refers  to  things  as 
in  space  and  time,  or  to  things  as  bounded.  As  quality  is 
itself  a determination,  it  is  a limit.  In  order  to  get  at  what 
is  truly  real,  we  have  to  abstract  from  the  actual  limits 
of  individuals, — nay,  we  have  ultimately  to  abstract  from 
all  limit  whatever  and  we  shall  find  the  only  true  reality 
in  what  is  then  called  the  Infinite.  Hegel  is  credited  with 
bringing  out  explicitly  the  principles  which  governed  the 
thought  of  Spinzoa. 

2.  The  so-called  principle  Chnnis  determinatio  est  negatio 
has  already  been  sufficiently  exposed.  Let  us  look  now 
at  the  other  generality  which  is  vaunted  as  a principle, 
and,  the  ground  of  advanced  philosophy.  It  is  thus  Hegel 
himself  states  the  principle: — 


INTRODUCTION 


109 


v The  knowledge  which  we  have  of  a limit,  shows  that 
we  already  overleap  the  limit;  it  shows  our  infinity.  The 
things  of  nature  are  finite  by  this  even,  that  limit  does 
not  exist  for  them,  but  only  for  us  who  compare  them 
with  each  other.  We  are  finite  when  we  receive  a con- 
trary into  consciousness.  But  we  overleap  this  limit  in 
the  knowledge  even  which  we  have  of  that  contrary  (other). 
It  is  only  the  unconscious  being  ( der  JJnwissende ) that  is 
finite,  for  it  is  ignorant  of  its  limit.  On  the  other  hand, 
every  being  which  knows  limit  knows  the  limit  as  not  a 
limit  of  its  knowledge,  but  as  an  element  of  which  it  has 
consciousness,  as  an  element  that  belongs  to  the  sphere 
of  its  knowledge.  It  is  only  the  being  unknown  ( or  of 
which  there  is  no  consciousness ) that  could  constitute  a 
limit  of  knowledge;  while  that  known  limit  is  by  no 
means  a limit  of  knowing.  Consequently,  to  know  one's 
own  limit  is  to  know  one’s  own  illimitability.  Meanwhile, 
when  we  conceive  spirit  as  unlimited,  as  truly  infinite, 
we  ought  not  to  conclude  that  the  limit  is  in  no  way  in 
the  spirit,  but  rather  to  recognize  that  spirit  ought  to 
determine  itself,  and  therefore  to  limit  itself  and  place 
itself  in  the  sphere  of  the  finite.  Only  the  understanding 
is  deceived  when  it  considers  this  finitude  as  insurmount- 
able, and  the  difference  of  limit  and  infinity  as  abso- 
lutely irreconcilable,  and  when,  conformably  to  this 
conception,  it  pretends  that  spirit  is  finite  or  infinite. 
Finitude,  seized  in  its  reality  is,  as  we  have  just  said, 
in  infinity.  The  limit  is  in  the  unlimited;  and  conse- 
quently spirit  is  not  infinite  or  finite,  but  as  well  the  one 
as  the  other.  The  spirit  remains  infinite  in  its  finitude, 
for  it  suppresses  its  finitude.  In  it  nothing  has  an  ex- 
istence fixed  and  isolated,  but  all  is  found  idealized,  all 
passes  and  is  absorbed  in  its  unity.  It  is  thus  that  God, 
because  he  is  Spirit,  must  determine  himself,  posit  in 
him  finitude  (otherwise  he  would  be  only  a void  and 
dead  abstraction) ; but  as  the  reality  which  he  gives  him- 
self in  determining  himself  is  a reality  which  is  com- 
pletely adequate  to  him,  God,  in  determining  himself, 
becomes  in  no  way  a finite  Being.  Limit  is  not  then  in 
God  and  in  the  Spirit,  but  it  is  placed  (posited)  by  the 
Spirit  in  order  that  it  may  be  suppressed.  It  is  only  as 
moment  that  finitude  can  appear  in  the  Spirit  and  remain 
there ; for  by  its  ideal  nature  the  Spirit  raises  itself  above 


I IO 


INTRODUCTION 


it,  and  knows  that  limit  is  in  no  way  a limit  insuperable  for 
it.  This  is  why  it  overpasses  it,  and  frees  itself  from  it. 
And  this  deliverance  is  not  as  the  understanding  repre- 
sents it,  a deliverance  that  is  never  accomplished,  an 
indefinite  effort  toward  the  infinite,  but  a deliverance 
in  which  the  spirit  frees  itself  from  this  indefinite  prog- 
ress, completely  effaces  its  limit  or  its  contrary,  and 
raises  itself  to  its  absolute  individuality  and  its  true 
infinity.  ® 

Again ; (<  To  be  annulled  by  and  in  its  contrary  there 
is  the  dialectic  which  makes  the  finitude  of  preceding 
spheres.  But  it  is  the  Spirit,  the  notion,  the  eternal  in 
itself  which  effaces  this  image  ( simulacrum ) of  existence, 
in  order  to  accomplish  within  itself  the  annihilation  of 
the  appearance. ® 

We  find  the  principle  of  this  passage  repeated  in  He- 
gelian literature  as  apparently  not  requiring  proof.  We 
are  told  that  (<  to  know  a limit  as  such  is  to  be  in  some 
sense  beyond  it ; ® <(  the  consciousness  of  a limit  implies 
the  consciousness  of  something  beyond  it; ® and  as  ap- 
plied to  reality,  it  is  said  to  follow  that  (<  the  dualism  of 
mind  and  matter  is  not  absolute,  and  thought  transcends 
the  distinction  while  it  recognizes  it.®  We  find  it  asserted 
that  (<if  the  individual  is  to  find  in  his  self-consciousness 
the  principle  of  all  knowledge,  there  must  be  something 
in  it  which  transcends  the  distinction  of  self  and  not- 
self,  which  carries  him  beyond  the  limit  of  his  own 
individuality.®  Subjective  consciousness  passes  into  ob- 
jective in  the  consciousness  of  God.  It  is  because  we 
find  God  in  our  own  minds  that  we  find  anything  else.® 
Finally,  the  result  of  the  doctrine  of  the  transcending  of 
limit  is  that  (<  our  consciousness  of  God  is  but  a part  of 
God’s  consciousness  of  himself,  our  consciousness  of  self 
and  other  things  is  but  God’s  consciousness  of  them, 
and  there  is  no  existence  either  of  ourselves  or  other 
beings  except  in  this  consciousness.® 

3.  As  applied  to  the  Cartesian  position,  the  correction 
it  yields  may  be  summed  up  as  follows:  — 

The  being  conscious,  or  the  finite,  is  an  illusion  or  pure 
negation,  if  me-being  or  me-conscious  is  viewed  as  a 
being  or  reality  in  itself,  and  having  an  existence  dis- 
tinct from,  or  even  in  opposition  to,  a non-self  in  the 
form  either  of  God  or  Matter  — extension.  I conscious 


INTRODUCTION 


in 


do  not  exist  apart  from  my  being  consciously  God  him- 
self— an  infinite  self-consciousness  — or  at  least  a part  of 
him,  or  an  individual  included  under  him  as  a part  of  his 
consciousness  in  which  I partake.  It  does  not  seem  to 
be  affirmed  that  I,  the  individual  conscious  Being,  am 
really  God,  in  the  sense  of  being  convertible  absolutely 
with  his  Being  or  consciousness.  He  passes  in  me  and 
over  me,  if  he  does  not  trample  me  out.  I am  affirmed, 
however,  to  be  a part  or  a moment  in  his  consciousness, 
whatever  that  may  mean;  so  that  I cannot  be  conscious 
of  myself  without  being  conscious  that,  so  far  as  I am 
conscious,  I am  God,  or  his  consciousness  is  my  conscious- 
ness, or  my  consciousness  is  his ; only  my  being  conscious 
does  not  exhaust  his  consciousness.  The  moment,  how- 
ever, that  I conceit  myself  as  anything  but  an  indissolu- 
ble part  of  the  consciousness  of  God,  I deceive  myself, 
raise  illusion  to  the  rank  of  reality.  The  only  reality  is 
the  Infinite;  and  I am  in  his  development.  That  is  all 
I can  lay  claim  to.  This  is  true  also  of  all  the  indi- 
vidual consciousnesses  of  the  universe ; they  are  not  really 
individual  consciousness  in  the  sense  of  being  conscious- 
nesses separate  from  the  Divine  consciousness;  they 
are  simply  moments  in  his  consciousness:  his  conscious- 
ness is  theirs,  and  theirs  is  his.  The  Divine  wave  of 
consciousness  flows  through  all  humanity — indeed  through 
all  the  universe ; for  the  different  ascending  stages 
of  being  are  but  moments  in  the  Divine  consciousness 
as  it  moves  upward  and  onward  from  its  dim  uncon- 
scious potentiality  to  self-consciousness  in  man,  and  to  the 
transcending  of  things  in  the  absolute  Spirit,  which,  in 
knowing  itself  to  be  all,  is  all. 

Several  questions  thus  at  once  arise.  The  first  of  these 
is  the  historical  one  as  to  whether  it  is  the  doctrine  of 
Descartes.  This  comes  very  much  to  inquiring  as  to 
whether  his  statements,  collateral  with  his  main  princi- 
ple, give  reasonable  hints  of  it. 

I.  There  can,  I think,  be  little  doubt  that  this  identifi- 
cation of  finite  self-consciousness  and  an  infinite  self-con- 
sciousness, or  consciousness  of  Deity,  is  a totally  different 
conception  from  that  of  Descartes.  He  no  doubt  holds, 
that  alongside  the  finite  self-consciousness  there  is  an  idea 
of  the  Infinite  — an  idea  which  is  positive,  which  possesses 
more  reality  than  the  idea  of  the  finite.  This  idea  is 


1 12 


INTRODUCTION 


suggested  to  us,  or  it  arises  into  actual  consciousness, 
through  the  conception  of  our  own  finitude,  limitation,  or 
imperfection.  It  is,  in  fact,  the  correlate  of  the  intuition 
of  self  and  its  limitations ; but  it  is  not,  in  Descartes’  view, 
an  intuition  of  being,  as  our  self-consciousness  is;  it  is 
not,  properly  speaking,  a consciousness  of  being  at  all;  it 
is  not,  as  it  has  been  improperly  regarded,  the  conscious- 
ness of  God  on  the  same  level  with  the  consciousness  of 
self  — it  is  simply  an  objective  or  representative  idea  in 
the  consciousness  of  the  finite  being.  The  idea  and  the 
reality  of  God  are  so  far  from  being  identical,  that  the 
principle  of  Casuality  is  called  in  by  Descartes  to  infer 
the  Being  from  the  Idea.  There  is  no  identification  here 
of  the  finite  self-consciousness  as  an  intuition  with  the 
idea  even,  far  less  with  that  which  is  totally  separate  from 
the  idea  — the  Being  or  consciousness  of  Deity.  We 
could  not  properly,  on  the  Cartesian  doctrine,  even  speak 
of  the  consciousness  of  God,  as  we  can  of  the  conscious- 
ness of  ourself ; for,  in  the  latter  case,  we  are  the  reality 
— in  the  former  we  are  not  even  face  to  face  with  it. 

1.  But  Descartes  makes  a further  statement  on  this 
point.  He  tells  us  that  the  idea  of  the  Infinite  is  not 
only  positive,  but  <(  in  some  sense  prior  w to  the  conscious- 
ness of  the  finite  — to  my  self-consciousness.  This,  of 
course,  would  be  contradictory  to  his  main  doctrine,  that 
self-consciousness  is  the  first  principle  of  knowledge,  if 
we  did  not  remember  that  the  priority  <(  in  some  sense  * 
of  which  he  here  speaks,  is  the  priority,  not  of  actual 
consciousness,  but  of  latency.  He  is  giving,  in  fact,  an 
instance  of  his  doctrine  of  Innate  Ideas.  These,  accord- 
ing to  him,  mean  not  ideas  actually  elicited  into  con- 
sciousness, but  ideas  somehow  prior  to  and  conditioning 
our  actual  consciousness,  while  appearing  in  it.  And  the 
idea  of  the  Infinite  had,  according  to  Descartes,  a special 
claim  to  be  regarded  as  innate,  because,  unlike  the  ideas 
of  sense,  it  was  not  dependent  for  its  actuality  on  phys- 
ical conditions.  This  was  not,  however,  a priority  of 
knowledge,  but  of  potentiality  or  latency.  This  state- 
ment cannot,  therefore,  be  relevantly  adduced  as  proving 
actual  knowledge  before  finite  or  self-conscious  knowledge. 

2.  We  fortunately  have  a perfectly  precise  explanation 
of  the  matter  by  Descartes  himself : <(  I say,  * he  tells  us 
in  explanation,  (<  that  the  notion  which  I have  of  the 


INTRODUCTION 


”3 


infinite  is  in  me  before  that  of  the  finite;  for  this  rea- 
son, that  from  this  alone,  that  I conceive  being  or  that 
which  is,  without  thinking  whether  it  is  finite  or  infinite, 
it  is  infinite  being  which  I conceive;  but  in  order  that 
I may  be  able  to  conceive  a finite  being,  it  is  neces- 
sary that  I retrench  something  from  this  general  notion 
of  being,  which  consequently  ought  to  precede. w 

Two  things  are  clear  from  this:  a.  That  Descartes  con- 
fused the  mere  indeterminate  of  thought,  what  is  as  yet  not 
laid  down  as  either  infinite  or  finite,  with  the  true  conception 
of  infinity,  b.  That  he  cannot  be  cited  as  having  conse- 
quently countenanced  the  doctrine  that  the  finite  is  a 
mere  negation  of  the  infinite;  for  the  simple  reason  that 
he  was  not  speaking  of  the  true  infinite,  or  of  what  he 
in  other  places  described  as  such.  The  finite  might,  as 
a determinate  notion,  be  a step  further  than  the  mere 
state  of  non-predication;  but  it  cannot  be  represented  as 
in  any  proper  sense  of  the  term  a negation,  far  less  a 
negation  of  the  infinite.  And  certainly  it  is  ludicrous  to 
say,  in  such  a case,  that  the  so-called  infinite  or  indeter- 
minate has  more  reality  than  the  finite  or  determinate. 
It  is  truly  void  of  any  attribute  or  predicate  whatever. 

3.  But  if  we  look  at  the  matter  closely,  we  shall  see 
that  there  is  no  true  contradiction  in  the  two  positions 
of  Descartes,  that  knowledge  begins  with  the  Cogito  ergo 
sum , and  that  in  a sense  the  idea  of  God  is  in  us  prior  to 
the  intuition  of  the  Ego  cogitans.  For  he  quite  distinctly 
regards  the  knowledge  of  self  and  the  knowledge  of  God 
as  of  two  different  orders.  In  the  one  case  we  have  an 
intuition, — the  reality  is  in  consciousness,  in  a sense  the 
reality  is  the  consciousness.  The  knowing  and  the  known 
are  for  the  time  convertible.  In  the  other  case,  we  are 
distinct  from  the  reality;  we  know  it  only  represent- 
atively or  by  idea;  the  existence  of  the  object  is  not  the 
idea  of  it,  the  idea  even  is  not  commensurate  with  the 
reality.  And  whatever  be  the  mode  in  which  we  may 
reach  a guarantee  of  the  reality  itself,  this  is  not  by 
direct  knowledge  or  intuition  of  it,  as  in  the  case  of  the 
Ego  cogitans.  The  direct  knowledge  of  the  conscious  ego 
is  actually  the  first. 

4.  It  ought  to  be  observed  that  while  Descartes  holds 
the  idea  of  the  infinite  to  be  true,  real  or  positive,  and 
to  be  (<  clear  and  distinct,  * he  does  not  hold  it  to  be  ade- 

8 


H4 


INTRODUCTION 


quate  or  commensurate  with  the  reality.  He  holds,  in 
fact,  along  with  these  positions,  that  the  infinite  is  incom- 
prehensible by  us.  Nothing  can  be  more  explicit  than 
his  statement  on  this  point:  — 

(<  The  idea  of  a being  supremely  perfect  and  infinite  is 
in  the  highest  degree  true;  for  although,  perhaps,  we 
may  imagine  that  such  a being  does  not  exist,  we  cannot, 
nevertheless,  suppose  that  his  idea  represents  nothing 
real,  as  I have  already  said  of  the  idea  of  cold.  It  is 
likewise  clear  and  distinct  in  the  highest  degree,  since, 
whatever  the  mind  clearly  and  distinctly  conceives  as  real 
and  true,  and  as  implying  any  perfection,  is  contained 
entire  in  this  idea.  And  this  is  true,  nevertheless, 
although  I do  not  comprehend  the  infinite,  and  although 
there  may  be  in  God  an  infinity  of  things  which  I cannot 
comprehend,  nor  perhaps  even  compass  by  thought  in 
any  way,  for  it  is  of  the  nature  of  the  infinite  that  it 
should  not  be  comprehended  by  the  finite;  and  it  is 
enough  that  I rightly  understand  this,  and  judge  that  all 
which  I clearly  perceive,  and  in  which  I know  there  is 
some  perfection,  and  perhaps  also  an  infinity  of  proper- 
ties of  which  I am  ignorant,  are  formally  or  eminently 
in  God,  in  order  that  the  idea  I have  of  him  may  become 
the  most  true,  clear,  and  distinct  of  all  the  ideas  in  my  mind. J> 

Our  knowledge  thus  is  so  far  from  being  identical  with 
the  being  of  God  or  the  Infinite  that  it  is  not  even  ade- 
quate to  the  reality  of  that  being.  The  being  of  the 
Infinite  may  be  a consciousness,  but  it  is  not  our  conscious- 
ness, nor  is  ours  related  to  it  as  the  part  to  the  whole, 
or  in  any  way  necessary  to  it.  God  is  to  Descartes  <(  a 
substance  infinite,  eternal,  immutable,  independent,  all- 
knowing, all-powerful,  by  which  I myself,  and  every  other 
thing  that  exists,  if  any  such  there  be,  were  created. ® 
But  our  knowledge  of  him  is  not  adequate  to  his  actual 
infinity  or  reality;  it  is,  in  fact,  but  an  analogical  knowl- 
edge, which  does  not  contain  all  that  he  is  or  may  be, 
and  which  can  at  the  best  grasp  his  perfections  not  for- 
mally but  EMINENTLY. 

So  far,  then,  as  the  doctrine  of  Descartes  itself  is  con- 
cerned, there  is  no  proof  that  he  in  any  way  identified 
the  finite  and  infinite  consciousness.  At  the  very  time 
that  he  says  there  is  greater  reality  in  the  idea  of  the 
Infinite  than  in  that  of  the  Finite,  and  that  the  former 


INTRODUCTION 


”5 


is  in  some  sense  prior  to  the  latter,  he  distinctly  infers 
an  actual  Infinite,  who  is  the  cause  of  the  Idea  in  the 
finite,  and  thus  makes  as  complete  a dualism  as  if  he  had 
laid  down  the  material  non-ego  as  an  object  of  direct 
perception.  The  true  dualism  of  Descartes  is  that  be- 
tween the  finite  and  infinite,  the  imperfect  and  the  per- 
fect ; and  this  is  as  repugnant  to  Hegelianism  as  a dualism 
between  thought  and  extension. 

II.  But  the  question  arises  — Can  such  a doctrine  as 
this  be  made  self-consistent  ? Is  it  coherent,  or  even 
intelligible  ? 

1.  Being  is  consciousness  — these  are  convertible.  My 
consciousness  is,  and  it  is  not.  It  is  not  while  I think  it 
as  mine;  but  when  I conceive  it  as  also  the  conscious- 
ness, infinite  consciousness,  of  God,  it  is.  The  infinite 
consciousness  or  consciousness  of  God  is,  and  it  is  not. 
It  is  not  apart  from  my  consciousness;  it  is  when  I am 
conscious.  Infinite  consciousness  and  finite  consciousness 
thus  exist  only  as  they  exist  in  each  other.  They  are 
not  co-factors  — for  neither  is  real  by  itself ; but  each  is 
real  in  relation  to  the  other.  In  fact,  reality  is  in  neither 
of  the  co-factors ; each  taken  by  itself  is  an  illusion ; but 
let  the  infinite  go  out  into  the  finite,  or  let  the  finite 
rise  to  the  infinite,  and  both  become  real.  There  is  just 
one  slight  difficulty  about  this  doctrine,  and  it  is  this  — 
that  it  gives  up  too  much,  and  can  get  too  little  for  its 
requirements.  If  the  infinite  consciousness  is  by  itself 
an  illusion,  and  the  finite  consciousness  is  by  itself  an 
illusion  — a mere  non-entity  — how  does  the  illusory 
infinite  consciousness  pass  into  or  add  on  to  itself  the 
finite  ? and  how  does  the  illusory  finite  consciousness  rise 
to  the  infinite  ? We  must  either  suppose  that  the  co-fac- 
tors— the  infinite  and  finite  consciousness  — had  each  an 
independent  existence  before  they  became  one, — in  which 
case  their  reality  does  not  lie  in  their  unity;  or  we  must 
suppose  that  what  was  simply  unreal  and  illusory  had 
the  power  of  becoming  what  is  both  real  and  true:  or 
we  must  hold  that  there  was  something  beyond  them 
which  constrained  them  to  unite,  or  rather  created  them 
in  union  — in  which  case,  however,  there  was  being 
beyond  consciousness. 

2.  Infinite  self-consciousness  is  not  (does  not  conceive 
itself  to  be),  unless  it  is  (or  conceives  itself  to  be)  finite 


INTRODUCTION 


116 

self-consciousness;  finite  self-consciousness  is  not,  unless 
it  is  (or  conceives  itself  to  be)  infinite  self-consciousness. 
In  bare  formula,  A is  not,  unless  it  is  not-A  (or  B) ; not-A 
(or  B)  is  not,  unless  it  is  A.  Strictly  taken,  neither  the 
one  nor  the  other  is ; only  if  either  is,  the  other  is : if  one 
is  conceived,  the  other  is  conceived.  Neither  is  by  itself ; 
both  are,  if  they  are  at  all.  Up  to  this  point,  no  state- 
ment is  made  except  that  of  a hypothetically  necessary 
relationship.  Exception  even  might  be  taken  to  the  valid- 
ity of  the  alleged  necessary  relation.  But  waiving  this 
meanwhile,  the  question  now  is  — Can  this  hypothetical 
relationship  be  realized  or  fulfilled  ? Do  the  terms  of  it 
not  preclude  the  possibility  of  its  absolute  assertion  ? I 
hold  that  they  do,  and  that  the  problem  as  put  is  ab 
initio  null.  We  have  merely  a hypothetical  see-saw.  The 
one  term  — viz,  finite  self-consciousness  — is  not,  unless  it 
is  the  other  term,  infinite  self-consciousness.  There  is, 
therefore,  no  starting-point  for  determination.  If  the  one 
is  not,  until  or  unless  it  is  the  other,  I can  never  say 
that  either  the  one  or  the  other  is,  or  that  they  both  are. 
If  I had  before  me  two  exclusive  alternatives,  or  even 
correlates,  equally  coexistent,  I could  absolutely  say,  This 
is,  therefore  the  other  is  not;  or,  This  is,  therefore  that 
is  also.  If  it  had  been  said  infinite  self-consciousness  and 
finite  self-consciousness  are  necessary  correlatives,  I could 
have  concluded  that,  when  I got  the  one  I had  the  other. 
But  if  I say,  as  this  formula  does,  the  one  is  not  unless 
it  is  the  other,  I can  determine  nothing.  For  my  finite 
self-consciousness  is  not,  until  that  infinite  self-conscious- 
ness which  is  said  to  be  inseparably  it,  is  also;  and  so  the 
infinite  self-consciousness  is  not,  until  my  finite  self-con- 
sciousness which  is  inseparably  it,  is  also.  I must,  there- 
fore, always  beg  the  very  thing  which  I am  called  upon 
absolutely  to  establish,  before  I can  assert  or  infer  it.  I 
shut  myself  up  in  an  absolute  petitio  principii. 

I do  not  exist  only  in  the  consciousness  of  God;  and 
God  does  not  exist  only  in  my  consciousness,  and  in  the 
consciousness  of  other  minds.  I have  not  merely  a uni- 
versal existence;  and  God  has  not  merely  a distributive 
existence.  At  least  these  are  propositions  I am  never 
able  to  affirm,  for  the  reason  that  I can  never  ex  hypothesis 
even  be  until  I am  not  myself,  but  God;  and  God  can 
never  be  until  he  is  not  himself,  but  me.  Or  I can  never 


INTRODUCTION 


ii  7 

be  conscious  until  I am  conscious  as  God;  and  God  can 
never  be  conscious  until  he  is  conscious  as  me.  I there- 
fore can  never  know  God’s  consciousness;  and  he  can 
never  know  mine.  As  consciousness  and  being  are  iden- 
tical, for  the  same  reason  neither  God  nor  I can  ever  be. 

3.  But  what  precisely  is  the  extent  of  the  statement 
that  my  consciousness  is  God’s  consciousness,  and  God’s 
consciousness  is  mine  ? Is  this  the  human  consciousness 
in  all  its  modes  or  moods,  thoughts,  feelings,  desires, 
volitions  — in  all  their  limitations  and  imperfections  — in 
all  their  purity  and  impurity,  their  foulness  and  their 
fairness  ? Is  this  God’s  consciousness,  at  least  temporally  ? 
Is  it  his  consciousness  passing  through  man  ? Then  what 
sort  of  Divine  consciousness  is  this  ? What  of  injustice, 
falsehood,  and  slander  ? Is  this  the  Divine  consciousness 
in  man  ? At  any  rate,  we  need  not  deal  much  with  its 
ethical  results.  These  are  tolerably  apparent.  Had  we 
not  better  take  refuge  in  Dualism  ? Or  is  it  only  that 
my  consciousness  is  God’s  consciousness  in  the  sense  of 
logical  or  generic  identity?  — in  the  sense,  that  is,  of  the 
two  consciousnesses  being  the  same  in  essential  character 
and  feature  ? So  that  we  know  at  least,  as  Ferrier  put 
it,  what  God  is,  if  we  do  not  know  that  he  is.  In  this 
case,  we  have  no  real  identity  or  identity  except  in 
thought.  We  have  the  same  identity  which  we  have  in 
any  classification.  But  this  implies  a duality  of  percep- 
tion or  intuition.  And  we  have  not  yet  reduced  all  con- 
sciousness— i.  e.,  all  being  — to  one. 

4.  Although  Hegelianism  seeks  to  make  the  principle 
of  non-contradiction  of  very  little  effect  in  its  system  of 
doctrine,  we  are  at  least,  in  the  first  instance,  entitled 
to  try  any  doctrine  it  advances  by  this  principle.  For  I 
presume  even  Hegelianism,  in  establishing  its  own  posi- 
tions by  proof,  must  in  the  first  place  assume  these  posi- 
tions to  be  what  they  are  alleged  to  be,  and  distinguish 
them  from  their  contradictory  opposites.  Self-consistency, 
accordingly,  must  be  postulated  for  any  series  of  doctrines 
which  even  it  may  lay  down.  Otherwise  perfectly  oppo- 
site conclusions  might  be  drawn  from  the  same  principle, 
and  thus  all  reasoning  and  all  consistency  of  thought 
be  abolished.  Now,  applying  this  test  merely,  we  haye 
the  me-being  conscious,  or  the  individual  self-conscious- 
ness which  we  suppose  we  find  by  reflection  in  our 


INTRODUCTION 


1 18 

experience  pronounced  to  be  ultimately  only  an  illusion. 
It  seems  to  us  to  be  real.  There  is  self  with  an  attri- 
bute or  series  of  attributes,  which  is  distinguished  by  us 
from  any  infinite  self-consciousness  which  we  may  chance 
to  apprehend  or  know  in  any  way,  as  it  is  distinguished 
from  other  individual  self-consciousness,  which  we  may 
find  or  conceive.  If  it  be  only  individual  or  independent 
in  appearance  or  seeming  to  itself,  how  can  this  seem- 
ingly illusory  entity  afford  a process  of  proof  or  ground 
of  reason  for  detecting  the  true  reality,  which  it,  con- 
sidered as  independent,  is  not  ? If  my  consciousness  be 
in  the  first  instance  illusory,  fortified  as  it  is  by  the  law 
of  non-contradiction,  regarding  the  nature  and  reality  of 
my  own  being, — how  can  it  be  trustworthy,  in  the  sec- 
ond place,  regarding  the  true  or  ultimate  reality  of  my 
own  being  and  of  this  infinite  self-consciousness  ? Let  it 
be  observed,  consciousness  is  the  only  reality;  there  are 
not  both  consciousness  and  being  in  separation.  These 
are  one  and  the  same.  Well,  the  only  consciousness  I as 
yet  know  is  my  own;  it  asserts  itself  as  such,  and  it  is 
impossible  for  me  to  doubt  it.  It  asserts,  as  is  admitted, 
its  own  independent  individuality,  as  opposed  alike  to  the 
Infinite  self-consciousness,  to  other  individual  finite  self- 
consciousnesses  ; but  in  doing  so,  it  deceives  itself.  Can  it 
any  longer,  after  that,  be  accepted  as  a reasonable  trust- 
worthy ground  for  determining  the  true  reality  ? Can  the 
illusory  consciousness  be  trusted  to  rise  to  the  true  infi- 
nite abiding  self-consciousness  ? Such  a deceitful  con- 
sciousness is  obviously  too  rotten  a foundation  on  which 
to  build  either  philosophy  or  theology. 

5.  But  it  may  be  said  the  Idea  here  comes  to  our  aid, 
the  idea  in  the  march  of  <(  the  immanent  dialectic. n This 
comes  in  to  correct  the  ordinary  consciousness,  which  is 
irreflective  and  superficial.  It  seems  clear  that  the  con- 
sciousness of  individuality,  of  which  we  here  speak, 
though  common,  has  been  dealt  with  by  Descartes  and 
others  in  neither  an  irreflective  nor  a superficial  way. 
It  has  been  tested  and  analyzed  as  far  back  as  analysis 
within  the  limits  of  human  intelligence  will  go.  It  has 
been  found  to  assert  itself  under  pain  of  self-annihi- 
lation, of  the  annihilation  of  thought  or  consciousness 
itself.  I suspect  no  other  philosophy  can  give  another 
or  at  least  a deeper  guarantee  for  its  first  principle.  At 


INTRODUCTION 


“9 

least  one  would  like  to  see  it  produced.  But  this  imma- 
nent dialectic  of  the  idea,  wherein  does  it  appear  ? How 
does  it  make  itself  known  or  felt  ? I presume  in  con- 
sciousness, and  within  my  consciousness,  within  some 
individual  consciousness;  otherwise  it  is  not  and  cannot 
be  anything  to  me  or  to  any  one  conscious.  But  then 
my  consciousness,  my  individual  consciousness,  is  pro- 
nounced and  confessed  to  be  illusory.  It  is  deceitful  in 
its  very  root;  in  holding  itself  to  be  what  it  most  inti- 
mately believes  itself  to  be,  in  what  it  is  absolutely  con- 
strained to  think  itself.  How,  then,  does  the  immanent 
dialectic  of  the  idea,  as  at  least  in  the  first  instance,  and 
as  in  knowledge,  a form  of  consciousness,  escape  the 
taint  of  this  illusory  consciousness  in  which  it  appears  ? 
How  can  I trust  it  when  I cannot  trust  the  deliverance 
of  the  same  consciousness  regarding  my  own  individu- 
ality ? This  dialectic  may  be  called  necessary,  a neces- 
sary evolution  of  the  idea,  and  looked  up  to  as  the  march 
of  omnipotence.  But  not  less  necessary  and  indisputable 
is  the  self-assertion  of  consciousness,  and  yet  it  is  but 
illusion.  Why  may  the  necessity  of  the  immanent  dia- 
lectic not  be  an  illusion  of  the  same  consciousness  ? How, 
in  fact,  on  such  a principle,  can  we  think  it  to  be  any- 
thing else  ? If  the  spring  of  knowledge  be  poisoned  at 
its  fountain,  what  can  purify  its  waters  ? Or  if  our  in- 
telligence be  a faulty  and  illusory  prism,  how  can  we 
expect  it  to  transmit  or  reflect  the  pure  light  of  truth  ? 

III.  After  what  has  been  said  of  the  inherent  incon- 
sistency of  the  theory,  it  is  hardly  necessary  to  inquire 
whether  such  a doctrine  can  be  admitted  as  the  neces- 
sary and  logical  supplement  of  the  view  of  Descartes. 
But  it  may  be  well  to  examine  the  alleged  ground  of 
its  proof.  This  touches  on  a question  regarding  the 
nature  of  consciousness,  which  has  important  general 
bearings. 

We  have,  in  the  passage  quoted  from  Hegel,  one  state- 
ment which  is  tangible  enough  to  be  grasped  and  ex- 
amined, and  it  is  the  principle  of  the  whole.  It  seems 
that  the  consciousness  of  a limit  overleaps  or  transcends 
the  limit, — in  plain  words,  that  when  conscious  of  a 
limit,  say  an  opposite,  contrary  or  contradictory,  I neces- 
sarily transcend  that  limit,  and  apparently  take  it  up 
into  myself  as  a part  of  me  — abolish  it  by  absorption. 


120 


INTRODUCTION 


The  reason  of  this  which  is  given  seems  to  be  that,  as 
an  object  of  consciousness,  it  is  within  my  knowledge 
or  consciousness;  and  whatever  is  so,  ceases  to  be  a 
limit  or  contrary  to  me.  It  is  fused  with  me  in  the  unity 
of  knowledge,  and  loses  its  character  as  an  opposite  or 
contrary.  I,  the  conscious  thinker,  become  both  myself 
and  the  limit  which  restricts  me  to  myself-being. 

1.  The  first  thing  to  be  said  about  this  principle  is 
that,  if  simply  because  a limit  known  is  in  conscious- 
ness, it  is  necessarily  transcended  or  abolished  — then 
there  never  can  be  a limit  at  all.  For  it  is  useless  and 
nonsensical  to  say  that  it  is  only  the  being  of  which 
there  is  no  consciousness,  or  which  is  unknown,  that 
could  constitute  a limit  of  knowledge.  What  is  unknown 
is  for  us  undetermined  to  any  alternative,  or  in  respect 
of  any  predicate  — either  as  this  or  that;  and  so  long  as 
it  is  unknown,  could  be  neither  limit  nor  the  reverse  to 
us.  If,  therefore,  limit  be  to  us  at  all,  it  must  be  a con- 
scious limit,  or  a limit  known  in  consciousness;  but  how 
can  it  even  be  known  as  such  if,  the  moment  I am  con- 
scious of  it,  it  disappears  ? The  very  possibility  of  the 
existence  of  limit  is  first  of  all  taken  away  by  saying  that 
a conscious  limit  is  not  a limit  at  all;  and  yet  it  is  im- 
mediately asserted  that  there  is  a limit  in  consciousness 
to  be  taken  away. 

2.  But  let  us  look  at  this  principle  in  its  main  appli- 
cation, and  we  shall  see  how  very  vague  the  statement 
is,  and  how  thoroughly  misleading  it  frequently  is. 

Hegel  speaks  of  consciousness ; but  it  is  truly  the  con- 
scious act  which  must  transcend  the  limit,  if  it  be  trans- 
cended at  all.  We  cannot  deal  with  consciousness  in 
general,  for  we  know  it  as  a reality  only  in  this  or  that 
special  act.  Now  let  us  look  at  the  main  classes  of  those 
acts,  and  test  the  alleged  principle.  Let  us  take  Sense  — 
Perception.  I apprehend,  for  example,  a certain  amount, 
and  therefore  limit  of  space  — say,  as  far  as  the  horizon. 
I am  conscious  at  the  same  time  that  there  is  space  be- 
yond what  I actually  see.  I can  imagine  space  beyond 
the  visible  space,  and  I can  go  on  doing  this  indefinitely. 
Here  I transcend  the  limit  of  vision.  But  have  I in  any 
way  abolished  the  visible  limit  ? In  no  sense  whatever. 
The  bounds  within  which  my  vision  is  exercised  remain 
to  me  as  much  bounds  as  ever, — as  definite  and  unim- 


INTRODUCTION 


I 2 1 


passable  by  vision  as  before.  I cannot  see  beyond  the 
horizon.  All  that  I have  done  is,  that  I have  ideally 
added  to  the  amount  of  space  lying  within  the  limits  of 
vision.  In  so  doing  I in  no  way  affect  the  limit  of  my 
original  perception.  I transcend  it  in  imagination;  but 
I neither  abolish  it,  nor  do  I absorb  it  in  the  con- 
sciousness which  I have  of  it,  or  of  the  imaginative  ideal 
which  I join  to  it.  And  what  is  more,  if  I place  the  act 
of  imagination  on  the  same  level  with  the  act  of  vision, 
because  both  are  in  consciousness,  I make  an  assumption 
which  I have  not  attempted  to  vindicate,  and  which  is 
not  vindicable.  For  the  act  of  vision  is  primary  and 
intuitive,  and  conversant  with  an  object  of  a totally 
different  character  from  the  secondary  and  ideal  object 
of  imagination. 

3.  Let  us  try  the  principle  by  reference  to  the  limit 
experienced  in  Desire,  a favorite  Hegelian  illustration. 
To  transcend  the  limit  here,  obviously  means  in  thought. 
When  we  are  conscious  of  desiring  a particular  object, 
we  are  conscious  of  the  object  desired,  that  we  have  it 
not  in  possession,  and  we  can  conceive  ourselves  as 
possessing  it.  That  is  (<  transcending  ” the  <(  limit  * 
implied  in  the  desire.  Nobody  need  dispute  this.  It  is 
stating  the  fact  of  desire  and  what  is  essential  to  it  in 
explicit  words.  But  what  then  ? Is  it  transcending 
the  limit  in  any  real  or  positive  sense  ? Does  this  con- 
ception of  what  I seek  put  me,  the  seeker,  in  possession 
of  the  object  ? In  other  words,  is  my  consciousness  of 
what  I am  or  have  added  to  by  the  conception  merely 
of  what  I want  ? In  that  case,  to  desire  must  mean 
that  we  have  the  thing  desired.  The  transcending  the 
limit  in  the  sense  of  being  conscious  of  what  the 
limit  is,  and  reaching  the  limit  in  consciousness,  are  so 
wholly  different  things,  that  only  a man  inspired  with 
the  belief  that  his  consciousness  even  of  a possibility  is 
the  only  actuality  can  accept  such  a conclusion.  Nothing 
could  more  clearly  show  that  we  are  here  dealing  with 
a new  notionalism,  related  to  reality  merely  as  the 
shadow  to  the  thing. 

4.  But  let  us  take  logical  limit.  Here,  if  anywhere, 
the  doctrine  ought  to  hold  good,  that  the  consciousness 
of  a limit  transcends  the  limit. 

In  the  constitution  of  a notion  we  have  limit;  limit  is 


122 


INTRODUCTION 


essential  to  the  existence  of  a notion.  In  one  point  of 
view  a notion  is  an  attribute  or  set  of  attributes  named ; 
in  another,  it  is  the  (ideal)  sum  of  objects  in  which  the 
attribute  or  attributes  are  embodied.  Here  distinction, 
difference,  therefore  limit  is  essential.  The  attribute  of 
life,  e.  g.,  marks  off  the  thing  possessing  it  from  others 
which  do  not.  Organization  does  the  same;  and  but 
for  the  distinction,  and  therefore  limit,  implied  in  the 
notions,  there  would  be  no  conception,  knowledge,  or 
thought  at  all.  It  may  be  said  that  because  I am  con- 
scious of  the  attribute  life,  and  therefore  of  its  opposite 
or  negative,  I have  transcended  the  particular  attribute. 
If  to  know  what  a thing  is  not,  is  to  transcend  the  knowl- 
edge of  what  it  is,  I have.  This  can  hardly  seriously  be 
regarded  as  either  a novel  or  important  discovery.  But 
this  is  not  all  that  is  meant  or  implied  in  the  transcend- 
ing, and  we  must  inquire  whether  there  is  abolition  of 
the  limit  here,  or  absorption  of  it  in  the  mere  conscious- 
ness of  it.  There  is  neither  such  abolition  nor  absorption. 
If  the  limit  be  abolished  by  my  being  conscious  of  it, 
there  never  was  a limit  to  begin  with,  for  there  was  no 
limit  of  which  I was  not  conscious.  And  if  the  limit  be 
abolished  at  all,  then  the  attribute  itself  is  abolished,  its 
very  reality  as  an  object  of  thought  is  subverted,  and 
there  is  the  blank  of  knowledge.  As  to  absorption  in  a 
third  notion  which  embraces  or  is  identical  alike  with 
life  and  its  contradictory  opposite  — or  even  contrary  op- 
posite— we  must  wait  until  this  third  is  produced.  It  is 
a mere  confusion  of  thought  to  suppose  that  because  I 
know  opposites  in  one  and  the  same  act  — grasp  them  in 
a unity  of  knowledge  — the  opposites  themselves  are  nec- 
essarily identified  or  absorbed.  Both  are  in  consciousness ; 
and  in  this  way  the  contrary  may  be  said  to  be  “the 
other » of  the  given  attribute,  but  their  real  difference 
subsists  all  the  same  — subsists  in  the  consciousness  itself, 
on  pain  of  the  very  abolition  of  knowledge.  Correlation 
even  excludes  identity;  and  the  moment  correlatives  are 
identified  the  correlation  ceases. 

5.  Let  us  look  at  the  principle  in  its  application  to  the 
Dualism  of  Mind  and  Matter. 

Because  we  are  conscious  of  mind  and  matter  as  two 
realities,  we  know  (are  conscious)  of  something  beyond 
the  dualism  or  limit. 


INTRODUCTION 


123 


Thought  is  conscious,  and  conscious  not  only  of  itself, 
hut  of  extension.  It  transcends,  therefore,  the  absolute 
distinction  between  itself  and  the  other  attributes. 

What  is  this  transcendent  something  now  known  ? 

a.  Is  it  a unity  in  which  the  dualism  disappears  ? Of 
this,  what  proof  is  there  ? Are  we  actually  conscious  of 
any  such  unity  — conscious  as  we  are  of  the  dualism  ? 

b.  Is  the  something  the  idea  or  conception  of  the  possi- 
bility of  such  a unity  ? How  does  this  destroy  the  dualism 
or  limit  ? If  we  are  conscious,  or  rather  think,  of  such  a 
possibility,  must  we  not  always,  to  make  this  even  intelligi- 
ble, confront  it  with  the  dualism  or  limit  of  which  we  are 
actually  conscious  ? 

In  this  case,  the  consciousness  of  something  beyond  is  a 
harmless  hypothesis,  waiting  proof  of  its  reality.  And  the 
statement  of  it  is  simply  a confusion  of  consciousness 
as  intuition,  and  consciousness  as  embracing  the  possi- 
bilities of  thought.  The  ideal  conception  of  a limit  tran- 
scended is  not  the  actual  transcending  of  the  limit;  and 
it  ought  not  to  be  put  on  the  same  level  with  an  act  of 
intuitional  consciousness.  This  is  to  put  possibility 
against  fact  or  reality  — the  conception  of  the  conditions 
under  which  a thing  is  possible  against  actual  definite 
thought. 

c.  But  let  the  object  of  knowledge  gained  in  this  tran- 
scendent act  be  supposed  to  be  actually  either  the  indiffer- 
ence or  the  identity  of  the  subject  and  object  of  conscious- 
ness. In  either  case  the  relation  of  contrast  or  opposition 
between  the  two  disappears.  We  have  a knowledge  above 
relation  and  difference,  and,  therefore,  above  conscious- 
ness. This  statement  is  a simple  contradiction  in  terms. 
The  words  knowledge  and  conciousness  cease  to  apply  to 
these  barren  formulae.  The  absolute  identity  of  subject 
and  object  in  any  form  of  consciousness  we  can  reach, 
is  no  more  to  us  than  a square  circle.  And  to  rest  the 
assertion  of  such  knowledge  or  consciousness  on  the 
simple  statement  that  consciousness,  in  apprehending  a 
dualism,  transcends  itself,  is  to  leave  out  the  only  point 
demanding  attention  and  proof. 

6.  But  the  statement  may  be  looked  at  in  its  highest 
generality  as  referring,  not  to  this  or  that  definite  act  of 
consciousness,  but  to  consciousness  in  general  — con- 
sciousness regarded  as  aware  of  limit  in  general  in 


124 


INTRODUCTION 


knowledge.  It  may  be  said  — nay,  must  be  said  — logic- 
ally, consciousness  ultimately  transcends  itself  — it  passes 
into  something  beyond  itself.  What  is  the  meaning 
of  this  ? The  ultimate  limit  of  consciousness  is  that 
which  separates  it  from  unconsciousness.  When  it  passes 
into  something  beyond  itself,  does  it  pass  into  this  oppo- 
site— the  unconscious?  In  this  case,  transcending  itself 
is  simply  ceasing  to  be  or  to  know.  Our  conscious- 
ness seems  to  be  under  the  necessity  of  a logical  sui- 
cide. 

7.  We  have  a good  deal  of  talk  in  these  days  of  limit 
in  thought  as  self-imposed,  and  therefore  superable,  such 
as  we  not  only  may  but  must  overpass.  In  what  sense 
is  any  limit  in  thought  self-imposed  ? Is  thought,  then, 
complete  — totus , teres,  atque  rotundus  — and  does  it  thus 
impose  a limit  on  itself  — a limit,  say,  of  identity  and 
non-contradiction?  This  is  absurd;  for  if  thought  already 
be,  it  is  independent  of  anything  — be  it  limit  or  other 
— which  it  may  impose  on  itself;  it  is  thought  complete. 
It  need  not  be  guilty  of  anything  so  foolish  and  arbi- 
trary as  this.  But  self-imposed  limit  is  really  an  absurd- 
ity. The  limit  in  thought,  or  of  thought,  is  the  limit  in 
or  as  which  thought  exists  — under  which  it  is  possible. 
We  think  an  object;  in  doing  so,  we  think  it  as  identical 
with  itself,  that  is  one  limit:  we  think  it  as  contradis- 
tinguished from  what  is  not  itself,  that  is  another  limit; 
and  our  thought  as  thought,  as  existing  or  real,  is  a con- 
sciousness of  those  limits.  It  does  not  impose  them,  for 
the  simple  reason  that  it  is  not  in  existence  before  them, 
is  in  and  through  them,  and  cannot  exist  apart  from 
them.  The  truth  is,  that  consciousness  itself  is  impos- 
sible apart  from  limit  — apart  from  the  consciousness  of 
self  and  not  self,  the  affirmation  of  this  and  that.  And 
if  consciousness  always  and  necessarily  transcends  the 
limit,  it  always  and  necessarily  transcends  its  own  reality, 
which,  in  plain  English,  means,  it  ceases  to  be.  But  the 
whole  point  lies  in  this,  that  while  each  opposite  or  con- 
tradictory is  in  consciousness,  each  is  an  opposite  or 
contradictory  still,  notwithstanding  that  they  possess  the 
common  element  of  being  in  consciousness.  The  fallacy 
lies  in  making  the  common  element  of  consciousness  in 
each  convertible  with  the  difference  of  the  opposites  of 
which  there  is  consciousness.  There  is,  in  fact,  the 


INTRODUCTION 


125 


usual  Hegelian  disregard  of  difference,  because  of  a com- 
mon element. 

8.  Those  who  seem  to  hold  this  doctrine  talk  constantly 
of  the  doctrine  to  which  it  is  opposed  as  implying  that 
knowledge  is  represented  as  limiting,  and  that  all  beyond 
this  is  the  vague  unlimited,  or  unqualified.  Now  I cer- 
tainly deny  that  this  is  a fair  statement  of  the  position. 
Knowledge  is  not  to  be  described  as  merely  a limit  — 
that  would  be  to  define  it  by  negation.  Knowledge, 
relative,  or  under  limit,  is  a positive  thing,  the  only  posi- 
tive thing  we  can  have,  and  it  is  distinction  or  distinc- 
tiveness which  guards  it  as  such  for  us.  It  is  the  content 
of  our  knowledge  which  makes  it  real  for  us,  not  the  bare 
limit.  The  limit  or  law  enables  us  to  hold  the  content 
definitely  and  distinctively;  and  if  there  be  no  fixity  in 
that,  there  is  simply  chaos  for  us.  It  is  in  the  content, 
too,  of  our  knowledge,  that  its  variety  lies,  and  its  pos- 
sibility of  increase  or  development.  It  is  in  this,  too, 
that  change  is  possible,  transmutation  becoming  develop- 
ment; but  this  itself  is  impossible  if  every  form  of  con- 
sciousness is  superable.  For  what  would  be  the  course 
of  human  life  and  human  knowledge  if  this  were  so  ? If 
everything  must  pass  over  into  its  contrary,  — if  we  can 
never  hold  anything  as  fixed  or  won  for  thought, — then 
the  aim  of  thought  and  life  is  not  to  reach  the  per- 
fection of  a type,  as  we  generally  imagine,  but  it  is  to 
go  on  in  endless  unrest.  Mere  mutation,  whether  in  an 
endless  line  or  in  the  Hegelian  circle,  is  a low  aim;  it  is 
not  true  freedom,  it  is  fate,  and  it  is  not  worth  living 
for.  There  must  be  an  ultimate  type  to  which  life  and 
thought  aspire;  and  such  a conception  is  utterly  incom- 
patible with  the  doctrine  that  the  content  and  the  form 
of  thought  are  equally  unfixed. 

9.  One  would  expect  cogent  proof  of  such  a theory  as  the 
foregoing.  But  really  such  is  far  to  seek. 

Finite  self-consciousness,  it  is  said,  implies  infinite  self- 
consciousness,  as  finite  spaces  presuppose  infinite  space. 
Is  there  any  true  analogy  here  ? Is  finite  self-conscious- 
ness related  to  any  infinite  self-consciousness,  as  the 
known  points  of  space  are  to  the  imagined,  whether  in- 
definite and  infinite  ? In  the  case  of  space  we  repeat 
similars,  coexisting  similars;  we  have  as  clear  an  idea  of 
space  from  the  smallest  portion  of  it  as  from  the  greatest 


126 


INTRODUCTION 


imaginable.  It  is  at  its  full  extent  but  a repetition  of 
points.  Is  this  the  case  with  regard  to  the  relation  be- 
tween finite  self-consciousness  and  infinite  self-conscious- 
ness ? Is  the  infinite  self-consciousness  simply  the  endless 
repetition  of  finite  self-consciousnesses  ? In  this  case,  we 
should  have  an  infinite  series  of  finites,  but  this  would 
not  make  one  infinite  self-consciousness.  We  are  as  far 
— nay,  farther  — from  unity  than  when  we  started.  Is 
the  infinite  self-consciousness  presupposed  a self-con- 
sciousness which  is  entirely  above  limit  and  predication 
of  any  sort,  except  the  general  statement  that  it  is  a 
self-consciousness  absolutely  without  limit  ? This  state- 
ment is  really  suicidal,  if  not  positively  meaningless. 
The  term  self  cannot  be  applied  under  such  conditions; 
and  no  more  can  the  term  consciousness.  At  any  rate, 
such  a self  is  not  the  self  of  consciousness  which  we 
know,  and  has  no  more  logical  or  other  connection 
with  it  than  it  has  with  non-entity,  or  the  blank  of  in- 
definiteness. 

io.  The  infinite  self-consciousness  and  the  finite  self- 
consciousness  are  two  phrases  which  are  bandied  about 
as  if  they  were  equally  grasped  by  us,  and  this  infinite 
self-consciousness  were  as  patent  to  our  knowledge  as 
our  own  self-consciousness  is.  But  the  truth  is,  that 
while  we  have  a perfectly  definite  knowledge  of  our 
own  self-consciousness,  personality,  and  individuality,  as 
a matter  of  fact  or  fact  in  time,  we  have  no  such  knowh 
edge  of  an  infinite  conscious  personality.  We  may  be 
led  to  infer  it  from  our  own  consciousness  or  from  other 
facts  of  our  experience,  or  we  may  try  to  conceive  it. 
This  even  we  shall  find  an  exceedingly  difficult  task, 
for  a conscious  personality  above  time  and  limit,  yet 
divided  into  an  infinity  of  personalities  in  time  — a me 
that  is  every  me,  and  yet  itself  above  every  me  — is  a 
conception  the  elements  of  which  are  by  us  positively 
irreconcilable.  At  any  rate,  this  we  do  not  find  or  ap- 
prehend, as  we  do  our  own  self-conscious  reality.  And 
to  speak  of  the  consciousness  of  God  as  on  the  same 
level  of  apprehension  and  evidence  as  our  own  self-con- 
sciousness, without  even  offering  explicit  proof,  is  as  bad 
a presupposition  as  can  well  be  imagined. 

We  might  ask  a question  as  to  what  an  infinite  self- 
consciousness  really  means.  It  is  an  exceedingly 


INTRODUCTION 


127 


ambiguous  phrase,  a phrase  into  which  it  is  hardly  pos- 
sible to  put  a consistent  meaning.  The  only  rational 
analogy  through  which  we  can  conceive  any  meaning  in 
it  is  that  of  extending  our  self-consciousness  to  the  uni- 
verse. We  know  that  we  are  conscious  all  through  the 
bodily  organism  until  we  meet  with  a limit  to  the  sphere 
of  our  sentiency.  This  is  the  true  and  ultimate  distinc- 
tion between  the  finite  Ego  and  the  material  non-Ego. 
We  may  carry  this  analogy  with  us,  and  suppose  that 
there  is  an  Ego  who  is  conscious  of  himself  all  through  the 
universe  of  being,  as  we  are  conscious  all  through  our 
sentient  bodily  organism.  But  this  is  as  yet  to  us  nothing 
more  than  a conception  or  ideal.  We  have  no  warrant, 
simply  because  we  are  self-conscious  within  a certain 
sphere  or  limit,  to  suppose  that  there  is  an  all-pervad- 
ing consciousness  which  appropriates  to  itself  as  its  own 
sphere  of  sentiency  both  all  finite  minds  and  all  mat- 
ter. Yet  what  else  does  an  infinite  self-consciousness 
properly  mean  ? And  will  it  be  maintained  that  we  have 
an  equal  intuition  of  a being  of  this  character  with  that 
of  our  own  individual  existence  within  the  sphere  of 
sentiency  ? Is  it  not  the  height  of  unreason  to  maintain 
further  that  we  can  make  this  conception  reconcilable 
with  the  individuality  of  finite  minds  ? or  that  in  this 
case  the  so-called  reality  of  finite  minds  can  be  construed 
by  us  as  anything  but  a mere  dream  ? The  self-con- 
scious being  who  conceits  himself  as  real,  is  merely  a 
thing  to  which  the  infinite  all-pervading  consciousness 
permits  a passing  moment  of  self-illusion. 

But  what  are  the  terms  in  which  the  Infinite  or  infi- 
nite being,  is  represented  ? It  appears  that  we  conceive 
of  the  Infinite  Being  by  the  very  fact  that  we  conceive 
of  being  without  thinking  whether  it  be  finite  or  no.  We 
may  take  this  as  an  explicit  statement  of  what  is  meant 
when  there  is  talk  of  the  infinite  being.  But  what  truly 
does  this  mean  ? Would  any  one  acquainted  with  the 
discussions  on  this  point  accept  such  a statement  as  a 
correct  description  of  what  we  suppose  we  mean  when 
we  speak  of  the  infinite  being  ? To  be  conscious  of  being, 
without  thinking  whether  it  be  finite  or  no  — this  is  think- 
ing being  infinite.  Then,  in  that  case,  simply  because 
we  reach  the  indeterminate  in  thought  — neither  finite 
nor  the  reverse,  we  have  got  the  infinite!  We  do  not 


178 


INTRODUCTION 


predicate  of  the  notion  being,  therefore  our  notion  of  it 
is  infinite!  The  cessation  of  predication  is  the  infinite! 
Well,  such  an  infinite  is  not  worth  the  paper  it  is  writ- 
ten on.  But  is  this  consistent  with  other  statements 
that  the  infinite  is  an  infinite  self-consciousness  — that  it 
is  spirit,  and  so  on  ? Certainly  not.  This  so-called  infi- 
nite is  the  mere  vague  indeterminate  of  thought.  It  is 
worse  as  a terminal  description  of  the  infinite  than  even 
the  indefinite  of  Mill.  The  true  infinite,  if  there  be  a 
positive  infinite  at  all,  in  knowledge,  is  that  of  being  in 
one  or  other  of  its  forms  — that  is,  intelligible  being 
raised  to  such  a height  of  conception  that  we  are  able 
on  grounds  of  evidence  to  say  that  it  is  an  entity  abso- 
lutely without  bounds.  This  abstinence  from  thinking 
the  object  as  either  finite  or  not,  is  not  a conception  or 
statement,  even  in  terms,  of  infinity  or  the  infinite ; it  is 
a mere  indeterminate  possibility  of  thought. 

IV.  But  let  us  look  for  a moment  at  the  bearings  of 
this  doctrine  on  Finite  Reality,  especially  the  Personality 
and  Individuality  of  man.  What  is  its  fair  logical  con- 
sequence ? Is  it  consistent  with  the  facts  of  our  experi- 
ence ? 

i.  Individual  realities,  if  the  expression  be  allowable, 
are  the  most  vain  and  passing  things  in  the  world. 
They  have  no  true  reality;  they  are,  but  they  are  only 
as  passing  forms  of  the  outpour  of  the  infinite  sub- 
stance. They  are  as  raindrops  to  vapor;  the  partial 
manifestations  of  the  ultimate  reality  — again,  perhaps, 
to  return  to  vapor.  All  that  can  be  said  is,  that  this 
infinite  substance  individualizes  itself  only  again  to 
take  the  individual,  perhaps,  up  into  itself,  or  to  let  it 
pass  into  other  individuals;  but  the  idea  of  anything 
more  than  some  necessary  individualization  need  not 
be  admitted.  The  whole  sphere,  therefore,  of  human 
individuality  and  personality,  is  swept  away,  so  far 
as  any  distinctiveness  or  permanency  is  concerned. 
Each  individual  is  I,  Thou,  He,  at  a particular  point 
of  time ; but  these  Egos,  or  Selves,  or  Personalities 
have  little  or  no  meaning  or  concern  in  the  Universe. 
These  are  simply  forms  in  which  the  infinite  sub- 
stance must  individualize  itself.  But  that  is  all.  Any 
other  ego  or  self  besides  me  and  thee  and  him  will 
do  equally  well,  provided  simply  it  is  an  ego.  We  pass 


INTRODUCTION 


129 


away  from  time,  and  other  egos  come  in  our  place  — 
equally  emanations  of  the  infinite  substance  — and  thus 
the  evolution  or  issue  of  this  infinite  substance  is  ful- 
filled. As  to  why  and  how  I am  here,  except  that  the 
infinite  necessarily  evolves  itself,  I know  not  and  need 
not  care.  As  to  where  I am  going,  and  whether  I am 
going  anywhere,  this  is  equally  left  unaccounted  for, 
except  that  probably  I shall  return  into  that  infinite  or 
indefinite  being  — that  neutrum  of  Personality  and  Im- 
personality from  which  I came.  It  might  seem  neces- 
sary here  even  to  call  in  the  common  experience  or 
consciousness  of  mankind,  and  to  ask  whether  this  is  an 
adequate  representation  of  reality  as  we  find  it  in  ex- 
perience, or  as  we  find  it  suggested  in  experience.  A 
philosophy  of  this  sort  does  not  meet,  it  shirks  essen- 
tially the  questions  of  highest  and  most  pressing  interest 
to  human  life.  Some  development  in  things,  a develop- 
ment even  of  a particular  sort,  and  according  to  particu- 
lar laws  — it  being  indifferent  all  the  while  what  are, 
whence  are,  and  whither  go  the  individualities,  the  con- 
scious personal  existences  of  the  universe  — except  as 
accidentally  filling  up  the  scheme  of  things  which  alone 
subsists  in  the  Eternal  Substance  or  Reason,  this  is  a 
system  which  can  satisfy  only  when  faith  and  hope  have 
fled  from  the  breasts  of  men,  and  they  are  convinced 
that  existence  blossoms  and  comes  to  highest  fruit  only 
in  the  passing  aggregate  of  human  self-consciousnesses. 

2.  But  consciousness  by  a man  of  his  being  merely  a 
relative  in  the  correlation  of  finite  and  infinite,  really 
makes  him  to  be  — constitutes  his  being.  No  man,  there- 
fore, who  does  not  attain  to  this  consciousness,  ever  is. 
Who  among  men  in  the  past  have  attained  to  this  con- 
sciousness ? Who  of  the  actors,  the  speakers,  even  the 
thinkers,  of  the  world  ? Who  in  history  have  really  ever 
realized  this  within  their  own  consciousness  ? I say  none 
— not  one  — none  until  Hegel  himself,  if  he  did  this  — in 
formulating  certain  phraseology.  It  follows,  therefore, 
that  all  men  before  his  time,  believing,  as  they  did,  in 
their  independent  individuality,  have  really  never  existed. 
They  were  not ; they  were  a mere  illusion  to  themselves. 
They  never  rose  to  the  speculative  consciousness;  they 
never,  therefore,  rose  to  mere  being.  Their  lives  are  to 
be  set  aside  as  merely  side-waters,  having  nothing  to  do 
9 


13° 


INTRODUCTION 


with  the  main  stream  of  life.  They  cannot  even  be  said 
to  be  moments  of  the  eternal  being;  for  they  were  never 
conscious  of  their  true  relationship  to  it,  and  therefore 
never  existed  even  as  moments  of  it.  Hegel  could  thus 
quite  consistently,  yet  inhumanly,  say  that  justice  and 
virtue,  injustice,  violence,  and  vice,  talents  and  their  deeds, 
passions  small  and  great,  guilt  and  innocence,  the  grandeur 
of  individual  and  of  national  life,  the  independence  and 
the  fortunes  of  states  and  individuals,  have  their  mean- 
ing in  the  sphere  of  conscious  reality,  but  that  with  these 
the  universal  or  world-history  has  no  concern.  It  looks 
only  to  the  necessary  moment  of  the  idea  of  the  world- 
spirit. 

3.  To  represent  the  world  of  human  thought,  feeling, 
and  volition  as  in  itself  a mere  negation ; to  do  the  same 
regarding  the  world  of  extension,  resistance,  color, 
sound,  and  all  the  manifold  variety  of  sensible  experi- 
ence; to  hold  all  this  as  a negation  of  an  infinite  some- 
thing, which  has  never  itself  truly  come  within  our  con- 
sciousness at  all,  is  not  to  elevate  but  to  degrade  our 
view  both  of  man  and  the  world.  These  are  the  most 
positive  objects  we  know;  and  if  aught  else  be  positive 
or  real,  it  is  because  these  are  positive  and  real,  and  we 
know  them  to  be  such.  So  far  from  there  being  an  in- 
finite which  is  the  only  reality,  there  can  be  no  infinite 
which  is  a reality  at  all,  if  these  be  not  in  themselves, 
as  we  experience  them,  what  our  consciousness  testifies 
they  are,  distinctive  existences.  Man’s  spirit,  so  far,  as 
it  is  a negation,  is  a negation  of  the  non-existent  and 
the  unconscious;  and  the  world,  so  far  as  it  is  a ne- 
gation, is  a negation  of  infinite  vacuity  in  time 
and  space.  These  are  the  notions  negated,  if  we 

are  to  talk  of  man  and  the  world  as  negatives. 

The  negation  is  of  the  previous  absence  of  be- 
ing) by  the  position  of  being  — of  consciousness  and 

material  reality.  The  true  correlation  is  between  the 

definite  of  time  and  space  and  the  indefinite  of  both  or 
either.  But  this  is  an  unequal  correlation;  it  is  not  the 
subordination  of  man  and  the  world  to  a higher  reality; 
it  is  not  the  negation  of  a higher  reality;  it  is  not  the 
evolution  of  these  from  it:  it  is  simply  the  statement  of 
the  real  as  opposed  to  the  unreal,  which  must  be  the 
limit  and  condition  to  us  of  any  conception  of  reality  at  all. 


INTRODUCTION 


131 

4.  Hegel  himself  no  doubt  imagines  that  he  harmonizes 
the  reality  of  the  finite  with  the  infinite,  as  he  thinks 
that  he  conciliates  realism  and  idealism.  The  ordinary 
view  of  the  reality  of  God  and  man  is,  according  to  him, 
this : (<  God  is,  and  we  are  also. ® <(  This,  ® he  says, (<  is  a 
bad  synthetic  combination.  It  is  the  way  of  the  Repre- 
sentation that  each  side  is  as  substantial  as  the  other. 
God  has  worship  and  is  on  this  side,  but  so  also  finite 
things  have  being  ( Seyn ).  Reason,  however,  cannot  allow 
this  equipollence  to  stand.  The  philosophical  need  is 
therefore  to  grasp  the  unity  of  this  difference,  so  that 
the  difference  is  not  lost,  but  proceeds  eternally  out  of 
the  substance,  without  becoming  petrified  in  dualism.® 
Again : (<  Phenomenon  is  a continual  manifestation  of  sub- 
stance by  form.  Reality  is  neither  essence  or  the  thing 
in  itself,  nor  phenomenon;  it  is  neither  the  ideal  world 
nor  the  phenomenal  world,  it  is  their  unity,  their  ident- 
ity, the  unity  of  force  and  its  manifestation,  essence, 
and  existence.® 

The  conciliation  of  infinite  and  finite  thus  given  is 
simply  to  substitute  for  both  a process,  an  ongoing  or 
outcoming  of  the  infinite,  or  indeterminate,  called  at  a 
certain  stage  substance  and  spirit.  Reality  is  thus  sim- 
ply movement  — movement  in  the  phenomenal  world. 
This  phenomenal  movement,  for  there  is  here  really  no 
phenomenal  world,  is  all  that  is  either  of  the  material 
world  or  of  finite  spirit.  It  is  represented  as  an  eternal 
process  of  creation  and  absorption.  It  is  a creation 
which  creates  only  that  it  may  destroy;  a creation  which 
simulates  a dualism  which  never  really  is  at  any  point 
of  time  or  space.  A dualism  which  never  exists  in  time 
is  no  dualism ; a dualism  which  exists  in  thought  only  to 
be  abolished  or  trampled  out  by  that  in  which  it  exists, 
is  a mere  passing  illusion.  This  is  not  a conciliation  of 
realism  and  idealism;  it  is  the  annihilation  of  everything 
corresponding  to  reality,  either  in  the  material  or  the  mental 
world.  It  is  the  resolution  of  both  into  a shadowy 
pageantry  of  a process  in  which  nothing  proceeds.  There 
is  not  the  slightest  ground  for  representing  dualism  as 
an  absolute  opposition;  and  not  the  slightest  approach 
is  made  to  a conciliation  of  the  finite  and  infinite  by 
fusing  both  into  a process  or  relation  between  terms  the 
distinctive  reality  of  each  of  which  is  denied.  The  pan- 


*3* 


INTRODUCTION 


theism  which  openly  identifies  God  with  the  sum  of  all 
phenomena  may  be  false;  it  is  not  an  absolute  or  inher- 
ent violation  of  the  laws  of  intelligibility. 

5.  But  why  speak  of  the  phenomenal  or  of  actual  reality 
at  all  on  such  a system  ? The  finite  mind  is  simply  in 
the  process;  it  is  the  process.  In  that  case  to  what  or 
whom  is  there  a phenomenal,  an  apparent  ? How  has 
it  any  meaning  unless  there  be  a distinct  finite  intelli- 
gence who  apprehends  it  ? Again,  is  it  phenomenal  to 
the  Infinite  Spirit  ? This,  however,  is  as  much  in  the 
process,  or  the  process  itself,  as  the  finite  spirit  is.  And 
if  it  were  phenomenal  to  an  infinite  spirit,  how  is  the 
phenomenal  to  it  known  to  be  identical  with  the  phe- 
nomenal of  experience  ? The  truth  is,  that  the  Hegelian 
reality  may  perfectly  fairly  be  translated  by  the  serial 
impressions  of  Hume,  which,  having  substratum  neither 
in  God  nor  in  man,  are  the  merest  passing  illusion  of 
reality. 

6.  The  fallacy  of  the  whole  logic,  and  the  main  result 
of  the  system,  in  its  bearing  on  reality,  may  be  summed 
up  in  a few  sentences : — 

Thought w is  used  in  two  diametrically  opposite  mean- 
ings— unconscious  and  conscious  thought;  while  the 
former  is  so  far  spoken  of  in  terms  of  the  latter.  First 
of  all,  it  is  thought  without  consciousness;  and  yet  it  is 
spoken  of  as  in  itself,  i.  e.,  it  is  credited  with  self-hood, 
and  also  with  power  of  movement  into  what  is  called  its 
opposite,  and  then  with  the  power  of  gathering  up  itself 
and  its  opposite  in  a third,  which  is  itself  enriched.  In 
other  words,  terms  and  phrases  entirely  without  mean- 
ing, unless  as  found  in  conscious  thought,  are  applied  to 
this  unconscious  thought;  it  is  made,  in  short,  to  act  as 
if  it  were  conscious  thought. 

Secondly,  at  a later  stage  of  its  begged  development, 
it  becomes  conscious  thought,  a self-conscious  ego,  which 
goes  through  several  stages,  turnings,  and  windings,  until 
it  becomes  a self-consciousness  above  the  finite  conscious- 
ness and  all  finite  reality:  for  it  is  both  infinite  con- 
sciousness and  finite  consciousness;  it  is  neither  the  one 
nor  the  other,  but  the  fusing  of  both. 

That  the  unconscious"  passes  into  consciousness  is 
assumed,  not  proved:  the  way  in  which  it  does  this  is 
sought  to  be  shown  by  clothing  the  unconscious  in  con- 


INTRODUCTION 


133 


sciousness  or  its  terms;  and  thus  the  disputed  fact  is 
established  only  by  a petitio  principii.  The  ground  of 
the  whole  process  is  a form  of  vulgar  realism  which 
identifies  the  unconscious  with  being;  and  the  result  of 
the  whole  is  a nihilism  of  contradiction  in  which  both 
positive  thought  and  positive  being  disappear.  The  so- 
called  idealism  is  truly  a veiled  form  of  irreflective 
realism;  the  so-called  concrete  or  positive  result  of  the 
system  is  merely  nihilism,  or  at  the  utmost  phenome- 
nalism. 

V.  Let  us  look  for  a moment  at  the  Theological  bear- 
ings of  the  doctrine.  It  is  adduced  as  a corrective  of 
prevailing  views  regarding  the  Divine  Reality  and  Nature. 
There  are  some  positions  regarding  Deity  which  this  ad- 
vanced thought  thinks  itself  competent  to  interpret  in 
its  own  way,  and  to  correct.  It  is  said,  first,  that  if  the 
world  or  the  finite  material  universe  be  regarded  as 
originating  in  the  free-will  of  Deity,  called  arbitrary,  its 
connection  with  him  is  to  be  regarded  as  “external,” 
“ accidental,  ” and  as  having  no  proper  or  necessary 
relationship  to  him.  It  is  said,  secondly,  that  in  order  to 
give  a reasonable  character  to  this  relationship,  the  finite 
world  must  be  regarded  as  somehow  emanating  from  him 
by  a necessary  connection,  which  stands  clear  out  in  the 
light  of  reason.  This,  when  fully  examined,  is  found 
to  mean,  not  only  that  there  is  such  a necessary  con- 
nection, but  that  it  is  deducible  from  the  very  notion  of 
Deity  itself,  regarded  as  the  Infinite;  and  further,  that 
this  is  deducible  by  us  as  a process  of  thought  or  con- 
sciousness. 

1.  Now,  with  regard  to  the  first  point,  it  is  incorrect 
and  unfair  to  represent  origination  or  creation  by  free- 
will as  an  arbitrary  act.  It  is  to  be  regarded  as  an 
arbitrary  act  only  in  the  sense  in  which  any  act  of  free 
resolution  is  an  arbitrary  act,  this  and  nothing  short  of 
it.  And  we  need  not  go  into  the  question  of  free-will 
to  know  that  will,  the  highest  and  best  form  of  resolution 
conceivable  by  us,  is  that  regulated  by  a conception  of 
what  is  most  fitting  and  best  in  the  circumstances,  or,  if 
you  choose  to  employ  a vague  phrase,  by  reason.  To 
say  that  resolution  is  necessarily  arbitrary,  is  itself  a 
mere  arbitrary  statement.  So  far  from  creation  which 
depends  on  an  act  of  free-will,  regulated  by  thought, 


134 


INTRODUCTION 


evidencing  only  an  external  or  accidental  relationship,  it 
is  in  fact  analogous  to  the  very  closest,  most  intimate 
of  all  the  relationships  of  our  own  consciousness.  For 
the  closest  tie  which  we  know  in  our  inward  experience 
is  just  that  which  subsists  between  me  willing  and  the 
resolution  which  I form.  I relate  resolution  to  myself 
in  a way  in  which  I relate  no  other  mode  of  conscious- 
ness, neither  feeling,  desire,  nor  thought  itself.  It  is 
mine  in  the  sense  of  being  truly  my  own  creation;  and 
it  is  to  me  the  most  fitting  of  all  analogies  for  the  mys- 
terious fact  of  Divine  origination  itself.  The  finite  as 
thus  related  to  the  Infinite  is  truly  the  passage  of  the 
Divine  power  into  actuality  or  realization.  It  is  only  a 
purely  verbal  logic,  founding  on  verbal  assumptions, 
which  can  regard  it  as  " external ” or  "accidental.”  If 
it  is  to  be  comprehended  at  all  by  us,  it  must  be  in  some 
such  way  as  this,  and  by  some  such  analogy.  Will,  the 
expression  of  personality,  both  as  originating  resolutions, 
and  as  molding  existing  material  into  form,  is  the  nearest 
approach  in  thought  which  we  can  make  to  Divine  creation. 

2.  With  regard  to  the  second  point,  the  so-called 
essential  or  necessary  relationship  of  reason,  the  first 
thing  to  be  noted  is,  that  the  finite  material  or  mental 
world,  which  arises  in  this  way,  is  and  must  be  the  only 
possible  world.  If  the  Infinite  is  under  a necessity  of 
development,  he  will  develop  in  one  definite  way,  and 
in  no  other;  and  if  he  has  developed  in  time,  that  de- 
velopment is  the  one  possible,  and  no  other.  Are  we 
prepared  to  take  this  consequence  ? Do  the  facts  of 
experience  warrant  it  ? Does  the  physical  or  moral 
quality  of  the  world  warrant  it  ? Can  we  ascribe  to 
the  finite  material  world  which  we  find  in  experience 
more  than  a purely  hypothetical  necessity  ? No  one, 
I think,  will  venture  rationally  to  do  more  than  this. 
Mechanical  and  chemical  laws  depend  ultimately  on 
atomic  existence,  proportion,  combination,  and  colloca- 
tion. Organization  and  life  are  somehow  also  connected 
with  those  circumstances.  But  is  it  not  conceivable  that 
those  ultimate  material  constituents  of  the  universe  might 
have  been  different  in  various  points  of  constitution  and 
adjustment  ? Will  it  be  maintained  that  the  actual 
order  which  we  know  has  arisen  is  the  only  possible 
order  — the  single  necessary  and  essential  development 


INTRODUCTION 


*35 


of  the  Infinite  Power  at  the  root  of  things  ? Further, 
does  not  the  element  of  evil  in  the  world  imply  a con- 
tingency which  is  entirely  incompatible  with  the  sup- 
position of  a single  possible  best  evolution  from  an 
absolutely  perfect  Infinite  ? At  any  rate,  can  we  with 
our  lights  prove  this  to  be  the  absolutely  best  even  in 
the  long-run? 

The  theology  resulting  from  these  principles  may  be 
summed  up,  in  these  words  of  Leibnitz,  in  two  propo- 
sitions— <(What  does  not  happen  is  impossible;  what 
happens  is  necessary.” 

3.  But  let  us  first  take  this  necessary  development  of 
the  Infinite  or  Absolute.  Is  it  speculatively  self-consist- 
ent ? The  finite  comes  from  it  necessarily  — nay,  it  is, 
as  it  originates  the  finite,  material  and  spiritual.  Its 
reality  is,  therefore,  dependent  on  its  necessary  develop- 
ment and  relation  to  the  finite : the  finite  is  as  necessary 
to  it  as  it  is  to  the  finite.  Yet  this  prior  term  of  a mere 
relation  is  an  absolute  — an  infinite,  self-sufficient,  as  such 
needing  nothing  but  itself  for  its  existence!  The  term 
absolute  or  infinite  has  no  longer  the  slightest  application. 
The  prior  term  here  is  a relative  — pure  and  simple,  a 
mere  relative,  dependent  for  its  meaning  — nay,  its  reality 

— on  a development  which  it  can  no  more  control  than 
the  body  which  gravitates  can  regulate  or  reverse  its  own 
movement.  A god  who  is  only  as  he  must  be,  producing 
the  contents  of  space  and  time  — who  is  only  a means  to 
these  contents,  is  about  the  lowest  form  of  mechanical 
agency  ever  set  up  for  man  to  worship.  But  further,  if 
an  infinite  or  absolute  cause  is  necessarily  at  work,  must 
not  the  effect  be  an  infinite  or  absolute  one  ? If  the  cause 
works  necessarily,  without  let  or  control,  must  not  its 
whole  power  pass  into  act  in  the  single  given  operation 
or  moment  of  action?  Then,  what  have  we  here?  Not 
a finite  result,  surely,  but  a result  infinitely  or  absolutely 
great,  and,  therefore,  coequal  with  the  infinite  or  absolute 
power  at  work.  But  what  an  absurdity  does  this  land  us 
in  ? Either  the  absolute  perishes  in  the  act  of  necessary 
development,  and  we  have  a new  absolute  in  its  effect  — 
Deity  has  perished  in  creation,  or  we  have  two  absolutes 

— an  absolute  cause  and  an  absolute  effect  — coexisting  in 
the  universe.  This  is  an  inherent  absurdity;  and  further, 
what  then  becomes  of  our  absolute  monism  ? 


136 


INTRODUCTION 


4.  But  have  we  considered  the  full  effect  of  the  state- 
ment that  the  finite  is  as  necessary  to  the  infinite  as  the 
latter  is  to  the  former  ? I am  quite  willing  to  take 
the  finite  here  spoken  of  as  the  finite  in  some  form  — 
not  the  actual  finite  of  space  and  time.  Let  it  be  any 
finite  form  of  being  whatever.  Deity,  in  order  to  be, 
must  produce  this  actual  finite.  His  reality  is  dependent 
on  it.  What  kind  of  Deity  is  this  ? A Deity  waiting  for 
his  reality  on  the  finite  thing  which  he  cannot  but  pro- 
duce ? The  cause  dependent  for  its  reality  on  the  effect  ? 
We  are  accustomed  to  think  of  Deity  as  possessing  ex- 
istence in  himself  — necessary  and  self-sufficient;  and  if  he 
have  not  this,  he  has  no  more  or  other  reality  than  any 
finite  thing  which  arises  in  the  succession  of  caus- 
alty.  But  here,  forsooth,  he  waits  on  necessary  produc- 
tion for  his  reality  ! Is  this  conception  at  all  adequate 
or  worthy  of  God  ? Is  not  the  self-conscious  I,  with  its 
free  power  of  will,  higher  than  this  ? a better  and  more 
elevating  way  of  conceiving  of  God  ? Is  it  not  a higher 
perfection  than  this  to  be  able  to  say  I will,  or  I do 
not  will — yet  I retain  my  individuality:  I am  the  center 
and  the  possessor  of  powers  which  I can  use,  or  not  use, 
as  intelligence  directs  me,  and  as  moral  interests  require  ? 
Is  not  this  a higher  grade  of  being  than  a something 
which  depends  on  the  necessary  production  of  a given 
effect  for  its  reality,  and,  which,  further,  must  also  depend 
for  the  continuance  of  its  being  on  the  continuance  of 
the  given  effect  ? For  this  is  the  logical  result  of  the 
doctrine,  even  granting  it  the  most  favorable  terms. 
For  unless  the  effect  continues,  which  is  not  provided 
for  by  the  theory,  the  producing  power  might  quite  well 
be  supposed  to  pass  away  with  its  own  necessary  effort. 
And  this  is  to  be  our  advanced  conception  of  Deity  ! 

5.  But,  further,  finite  being  as  an  evolution  of  infinite 
being  is  certainly  variable  as  to  content.  We  need  not 
again  point  out  the  absurdities  of  the  necessary  develop- 
ment of  infinite  being.  Is  the  finite  being  or  development 
not  variable  in  content  at  the  will  — the  reasonable  or 
righteous  will,  it  may  be — of  the  Infinite  one?  Then 
what  becomes  of  his  infinity  ? Can  we  conceive  a 
Being  as  infinite  who  is  restricted  to  a single  develop- 
ment of  finite  being  ? But  if  he  is  not  so  restricted, 
but  may  evolve  several  forms  of  finitude,  how  can  it  be 


INTRODUCTION 


137 


said  that  the  finite  as  a given  form  is  equally  necessary  to 
the  infinite,  as  the  infinite  is  to  the  finite  ? If  a conscious 
personality  is  possessed  of  free  will,  how  can  it  be  said 
that  a given  resolution  which  he  forms  is  as  necessary  to 
his  power  of  free-determination  as  free-determination 
with  all  its  possibilities  is  to  it  ? Such  a position  can  be 
maintained  only  on  the  suicidal  basis  that  a given  finite 
is  as  necessary  to  the  infinite,  as  the  infinite  with  all  its 
inherent  possibilities  is  to  it. 

6.  Then,  further,  there  is  the  point  to  be  established 
that  we  have  any  conception,  thought,  or  notion  of  the 
Infinite  which  is  at  all  adequate  or  truly  distinguishable 
from  what  is  strictly  an  analogical  notion, — whether,  in 
fact,  the  Infinite,  in  any  form,  is  so  comprehensible  by 
us  as  to  be  the  basis  of  a necessary  evolution  of  thought. 
For  even  although  it  be  admitted  that  finite  and  infinite 
are  as  thoughts  correlative,  it  has  yet  to  be  shown  that 
they  are  of  the  same  nature,  positive  content  or  reality. 
Unless  this  character  can  be  vindicated  to  the  Infinite 
as  a notion,  it  cannot  be  made  the  basis  of  a necessary 
evolution  in  thought  — of  the  actual  finite,  or  anything 
with  positive  attribute. 

7.  Then  this  evolution,  even  if  compassable  by  our 
thought,  is  but  a process  of  thought.  It  would  be  the 
ideal  mode  in  which  the  Divine  Power  was  supposed  to 
work ; but  it  would  fall  far  short  of  any  actual  realization 
of  the  ideal  in  time.  It  is,  after  all,  but  a process  of 
reasoning,  in  which  the  Infinite  is  assumed  as  major 
notion,  and  in  which,  accordingly,  we  have  but  a hypo- 
thetical conclusion.  But  we  have  really  no  guarantee 
that  the  process  either  represents  or  is  identical  with  any- 
thing in  time,  or  that  it  is  adequate  to  or  convertible 
with  the  evolution  of  that  finite  world  which  we  know 
in  experience.  The  mode  or  ideal  of  Divine  Power,  how- 
ever distinctly  conceived,  leaves  us  wholly  in  the  dark 
as  to  whether  the  Power  was  ever  exercised  or  not.  This 
can  only  be  guaranteed  on  the  assumption  that  the  process 
of  necessary  consciousness  through  which  we  proceed  is 
identical  with  Divine  action  — that,  in  fact,  our  thinking, 
sublimated  to  the  impersonal  form  of  thought,  is  God’s 
act  in  Creation.  This  is  but  a part  of  the  larger  assump- 
tion that  the  real  is  the  rational  — or  rather,  that  reality 
means  certain  so-called  necessary  processes  in  the  human 


138 


INTRODUCTION 


consciousness,  call  it  reason  or  by  what  name  you  choose. 
This  assumption,  as  unproved  as  it  is  unprovable,  is  con- 
tradicted by  the  fact  that  the  whole  concrete  world  of 
the  sciences  of  nature  and  of  mind  is  utterly  untouched 
by  it.  It  is  incapable  of  yielding  a single  fact  or  general 
law  of  nature  or  of  mind  as  manifested  in  consciousness. 
Hegel’s  (<  Philosophy  of  Nature  * and  his  (<  Philosophy  of 
Spirit w have  been  long  ago  generally  given  up  as  utter 
failures  in  point  of  consecutive  thinking  or  fair  evolution. 
They  are  the  mere  manipulations  of  a harlequin  logic, 
which  borrows  in  the  premises  under  one  guise  of  words 
what  it  brings  out  in  the  conclusion  under  another. 

8.  But  what,  on  such  a philosophy,  is  Deity  ? Or 
rather,  where  is  the  place  of  Deity  at  all  ? If  we  look 
at  the  first  stage  of  the  development,  he  is  the  most 
abstract  conception  possible,  the  Idea  in  itself,  what  may 
be  identified  with  nothing,  yet  credited  with  the  power 
of  motion.  This  first  moment  is  not  even  real.  The  Idea 
becomes  real  or  actual  only  in  the  development,  in  the 
process.  But  this,  again,  is  not  absolute  reality.  We 
find  this  the  highest  stage  only  in  the  Idea  when  it  be- 
comes absolute  Subject  or  Ego,  and  contemplates  itself 
as  everything  that  is.  In  other  words,  the  unconscious 
abstraction  called  thought,  not  at  first  God,  not  God  even 
in  the  process,  becomes  absolute  self-consciousness  in  the 
end.  He  is  dependent  even  for  this  consciousness,  that 
is,  for  his  reality,  on  retracing  the  steps  which  he  has 
somehow  taken  into  the  realm  of  nature,  where  he  was 
(<  out  of  himself, w and  so  in  the  end  finding  himself  in 
his  own  supreme  conscious  identity.  This  result  may  be 
translated  into  intelligible  language  by  saying  that  Deity 
is  ultimately  the  highest  point  which  human  conscious- 
ness can  reach  in  the  way  of  evolution  or  development. 
He  is  the  most  which  I can  think  him  — nay,  he  is  I 
when  I have  in  consciousness  transcended  myself,  and 
identified  myself  with  him.  Of  course  it  will  be  said  I, 
the  individual  ego  of  this  or  that  conscious  moment,  am 
not  God.  But  then  I,  the  individual  ego,  am  necessary 
to  his  existence,  as  he,  the  infinite  ego,  is  necessary  to 
mine.  His  reality  lies  in  the  conscious  relation  which  I, 
the  individual,  think  as  connecting  me  and  him.  This  re- 
lation is  matter  of  my  thought  or  consciousness.  It  is 
not,  unless  in  the  consciousness  of  some  one.  Deity, 


INTRODUCTION 


139 


therefore,  at  the  best  or  highest,  is  a process  of  my  con- 
sciousness. As  I think,  God  is;  and  what  I think,  God 
is.  The  step  from  this  to  the  degradation  of  Deity  to 
the  actual  sum  or  the  generic  conception  of  human  con- 
sciousness is  easily,  and  has  been  properly,  taken.  The 
Hegelian  Deity  is  really  man  himself  — regarded  as  the 
subject  of  a certain  conscious  relationship. 

9.  Deity,  as  standing  in  necessary  relation  to  man,  is 
dependent  on  man  for  his  reality;  man,  as  standing  in 
necessary  relation  to  Deity,  is  dependent  on  Deity  for 
his  reality.  The  reality  in  either  case  is  equal:  Deity 
has  the  reality  which  man  has ; man  has  the  reality  which 
Deity  possesses.  They  are  two  terms  of  one  relation, 
and  they  exist  only  in  the  relation.  If  the  reality  of 
Deity  be  interpreted  as  necessary  existence,  so  must  the 
reality  of  man;  Deity  has  no  advantage  in  this  respect 
over  man.  If  the  reality  of  man  be  interpreted  as  a con- 
tingent reality,  dependent  on  the  constitution  of  a rela- 
tion in  consciousness,  so  must  the  reality  of  Deity  be 
construed.  Either  thus  existence,  necessary  and  self- 
sufficient,  applies  equally  to  God  and  man,  or  existence, 
contingent  and  precarious,  applies  equally  to  man  and 
God.  In  the  former  case,  man  is  God  — he  is  God 
developed;  in  the  latter  case,  God  is  man  — he  is  man 
developed.  In  a word,  we  have  Pantheism  on  the  one 
hand  — we  have  what  may  be  called  Phenomenalism  on 
the  other.  God  sinks  to  the  level  of  a manifestation  of 
human  consciousness,  reaching  reality  only  when  the 
speculative  reason  chances,  in  the  course  of  things,  to 
develop  into  his  notion. 

<( A theory,  ® says  Trendelenburg,  (<  that  the  thinking 
human  mind  is  what  makes  the  hitherto  unconscious  gocj 
conscious  of  himself,  could  have  arisen  only  under  thq 
influence  of  a logical  view,  according  to  which  compre 
hensive  thought  conceives  the  content  from  itself,  re- 
ceives  no  rational  ready-made  content  from  without,  but 
produces  the  determinations  of  being  from  itself.  It 
could  have  arisen  only  under  the  influence  of  a logic,  at 
whose  foundation  lies  the  entire  presupposition  that  hu- 
man thought,  when  man  thinks  purely,  is  as  creative  as 
divine  thought,  and  in  so  far  is  the  divine  thought  itself. 
Yet  we  do  not,  indeed,  understand  what  the  conception 
of  God  at  all  means,  and  what  God  signifies  to  man, 


140 


INTRODUCTION 


since  it  is  only  man  that  makes  him  conscious  of  himself, 
and  since  God,  though  not  like  an  idol,  the  work  of  hands, 
before  which  the  same  hands  that  made  it  are  folded  in 
adoration,  is  after  all  a product  of  thought,  which  can 
hardly  be  adored  and  worshiped  by  the  same  thought 
which  woke  it  from  its  sleep,  and  enabled  it  to  pass  from 
blind  inertness  to  consciousness. w 

io.  As  to  Christ,  he  is  nothing  more  than  any  man  in 
whom  the  speculative  consciousness  is  developed.  He 
can  but  be  God,  by  being  God  consciously  — as  he  can 
be  man  but  by  being  man  conscious  of  himself  as  God. 
This  any  man  can  be  — for  the  speculative  reason  is,  if 
not  a universal  property,  at  least  a universal  possibility; 
and  consequently  the  incarnation  has  no  special  signifi- 
cance. Any  man  can  be  God  incarnate;  every  man  is 
God,  if  only  he  knew  it.  The  complete  abolition  here 
not  only  of  all  theological,  but  of  all  moral  distinctions 
between  man  and  God  need  not  be  emphasized.  Strauss 
and  Feuerbach  are  the  true  consequent  Hegelians. 

VI.  Hegel  no  doubt  talks  frequently  of  Religion,  reli- 
gious ideas,  and  Christianity.  He  professes  indeed  to  com- 
prise them  in  his  system.  His  system  is  the  essence,  the 
true  reality,  of  which  religious  and  Christian  ideas  are 
merely  the  symbols.  He  has  revealed  the  reality;  all 
else  is  mere  representation.  The  truth  is,  there  is  not 
a single  term  either  in  Natural  Theology  or  in  Chris- 
tianity which  is  not  perverted  by  Hegel  from  its  proper 
sense.  The  whole  burden  of  his  effort  is,  so  far  as  Chris- 
tianity is  concerned,  to  convert  what  is  of  moral  import 
in  Christian  ideas  into  purely  metaphysical  relations, — 
and  these  of  the  most  shadowy  and  unsubstantial  kind. 

i.  The  aspiration  after  moral  union  with  God  is  at  the 
root  of  all  true  ethical  life,  as  it  is  of  all  religious  life. 
This  means  the  harmony  of  the  will  of  the  individual 
with  the  divine  will.  But  the  Hegelian  conception  of 
this  relation  has  nothing  moral  in  it  at  all.  For  a moral 
harmony  he  substitutes  an  identity  of  being  or  essence, — > 
an  identity  of  the  human  and  the  divine  consciousness. 
The  dualism  implied  in  a God  distinct  from  man  and  the 
world  is  with  him  a mere  superstition.  This  metaphys- 
ical identity  may  be  a solid  doctrine,  or  it  may  be  repug- 
nant to  every  principle  of  reflective  thought.  It  is 
certainly  not  a moral  union;  and  it  is  not  Christianity. 


INTRODUCTION 


141 

It  is  a doctrine,  moreover,  incompatible  with  any  proper 
conception  either  of  Sin,  of  Righteousness,  or  of  Worship. 
It  is  of  a piece  with  the  translation  of  the  Atonement  into 
a consciousness  of  identity  with  God,  and  the  consequent 
freedom  from  fear  and  terror;  and  with  the  doctrine  that 
in  getting  rid  of  our  subjective  individuality  in  Deity  we 
get  rid  of  the  <(  old  Adam. M 

2,  There  were  two  points  in  particular  on  which,  we  are 
told,  Hegel  was  always  reticent  in  public  — viz,  the  Per- 
sonality of  God  and  the  Immortality  of  the  Soul.  In  this 
he  showed  that  good  ordinary  common-sense  which  he 
ignorantly  mistook  for  the  organon  of  philosophy  pro- 
fessed by  some;  for  he  knew  shrewdly  enough  the  only 
view  on  these  points  possible  on  his  philosophy.  It  is  on 
these  points  especially,  as  well  as  the  historic  character 
of  Christianity,  on  which  the  schisms  of  his  followers  or 
clientele  have  taken  place.  We  have  three  sections  at 
least,  all  more  or  less  holding  by  his  method  and  phrase- 
ology. These  have  been  called  the  Right,  the  Centre, 
and  the  Left.  The  Right  retains  but  the  phraseology  of 
the  master.  We  have  the  Centre  party,  represented,  per- 
haps, best  by  Michelet  of  Berlin.  This  is  the  party  of 
conciliation  and  compromise. 

The  most  opposite  dogmas  on  the  ultimate  questions 
of  metaphysics  and  theology  are  held  together.  True  to 
the  principle  of  the  identity  of  contradictories,  we  have  pan- 
theism and  theism.  The  unconscious  and  impersonal  Deity 
necessarily  produces  the  world ; and  he  becomes  conscious  in 
man.  A common  or  collective  immortality  of  man  is 
necessary;  because  the  Infinite  must  to  eternity  develop 
itself.  But  an  immortality  of  each  man  or  of  the  indi- 
vidual is  by  no  means  guaranteed;  it  is  not  necessary. 
As  is  has  been  put  by  Michelet,  (<  the  soul  is  immortal  in 
God  only,  and  God  is  personal  in  man.”  Christianity  is 
true  and  perfect;  yet  its  real  truth  is  only  in  the 
Hegelian  philosophy.  Therein  its  true  essence  is  to  be 
found.  We  have  seen  what  that  essence  is.  How  much 
of  the  essence  of  Christianity  remains,  we  find  in  Feuer- 
bach’s formula,  ” Let  the  will  of  man  be  done ! w 

Contradictory  dogmas  held  in  this  fashion  must  in  the 
end  prove  too  strong  for  the  slender  thread  of  identity 
with  which  they  are  sought  to  be  bound.  And  so 
history  has  shown.  Even  the  unconscious  absurdity  of 


142 


INTRODUCTION 


the  logic  must  xiltimately  lead  men  to  choose  one  or  other 
side;  and  we  can  readily  see  which  alone  is  possible  on 
the  principles  of  the  system.  Hence  there  very  soon 
arose  a left  party  in  the  school,  and  an  extreme  left.  As 
to  Deity,  the  shadowy  distinction  between  the  Spinozistic 
and  the  Hegelian  original  of  things  — substance  and  sub- 
ject— readily  became  obscured  and  obliterated. 

(<An  absolute  personality, w Strauss  tells  us,  (<is  simply 
a piece  of  nonsense,  an  absurdity.  ® What  of  the  Infinite 
Ego  after  this  ? And  why  ? (<  Because  personality  is  an 

Ego  concentred  in  itself  by  opposition  to  another;  the 
absolute,  on  the  contrary,  is  the  infinite  which  embraces 
and  contains  all,  which  excludes  no  thing. So  far  he 
is  quite  right;  we  cannot  literally  conceive  of  an  abso- 
lute personality,  as  our  own  is  a personality.  Such  a 
conception  is  utterly  incompatible  with  even  one  finite 
personality,  to  say  nothing  of  the  totality  of  finite  per- 
sonalities. But  what  then  ? Does  his  solution  help  us, 
or  must  we  take  it  ? <(  God  is  not  a person  beside  and 

above  other  persons;  but  he  is  the  eternal  movement  of 
the  universal  making  itself  subject  to  itself;  he  only 
realizes  himself  and  becomes  objective  in  the  subject. 
The  personality  of  God  ought  not  then  to  be  conceived 
as  individual ; but  as  a total,  universal  personality,  and 
instead  of  personifying  the  absolute,  it  is  necessary  to 
learn  to  conceive  it  as  personifying  itself  to  infinity. w 

Now  what  really  does  this  mean  ? God  is  the  eternal 
movement  of  the  universal  making  itself  subject  to 
itself  ! What  may  the  universal  be  ? one  might  ask. 
But  apart  from  this,  he  or  the  universal  is  not  a per- 
sonality, to  begin  with;  yet  he  becomes  one  and  many 
personalities.  He  is  a process,  a movement;  but  what 
of  its  origin,  law,  progress,  or  term  ? What  is  this  but 
a simple  abstract  statement  that  God  means  the  on-going 
of  things,  and  that  the  only  personality  he  is  or  reaches 
is  that  in  collective  humanity  ? Can  we  properly  retain 
the  name  of  God  after  this  ? Are  we  to  bow  the  knee 
to  a juggle  of  words  ? 

3.  We  speak  of  the  attributes  of  God  in  ordinary  lan- 
guage. We  even  believe  in  them.  How  do  we  now 
stand  ? Can  an  everlasting  process  have  attributes  ? It 
is  something  working  up  to  personality  in  finite  beings. 
Has  it  attributes  ? The  very  name  is  meaningless.  The 


INTRODUCTION 


143 


groping  process  to  have  goodness,  wisdom,  and  love  ! 
It  has  not  yet  even  self-consciousness.  Yet  I am  asked 
to  call  it  God  ! That  I cannot  do.  The  Ego  which  or 
in  which  the  process  becomes  self-conscious  is  alone 
God.  It  never  possessed  an  attribute  till  now;  it  was 
formerly  simply  a creature  of  necessary  generation  — 
though  how  it  should  be  so  much,  nobody  can  tell. 

4.  Strauss,  in  the  Leben  Jesu  (1835-6),  had  for  his  aim 
to  exhibit  the  essence  of  Christianity,  to  deliver  it  from  its 
external,  accidental,  and  temporary  forms.  This  was  a 
true  Hegelian  conception.  But  it  was  clear  that  the  his- 
torical character  of  the  books  and  actors  could  not  logically 
remain  on  the  principles  he  assumed.  Not  only  the  his- 
torical character,  but  the  distinctive  doctrines,  rapidly 
disappeared  in  the  development  of  the  school,  in  the  writ- 
ings of  Ludwig  Feuerbach,  Bruno  Bauer,  and  Arnold 
Ruge. 

The  movement  was  entirely  in  the  line  of  diminishing, 
in  fact  abolishing  the  supernatural  or  divine,  and  equally 
the  matter  of  fact  or  historical.  The  shadow  of  being  in 
itself  and  pure  thought  to  which  the  Divine  had  already 
been  virtually  reduced,  naturally  gave  place  to  a deifica- 
tion of  humanity  — not  merely  an  anthropomorphic  god. 
Humanity  itself  having  no  true  divine  substratum,  lost 
both  the  knowledge  of  its  origin  and  the  hope  of  immor- 
tality. The  movement  which  began  on  the  height  of  the 
loftiest  idealism  thus  issued,  as  might  have  been  anticipated, 
in  a hopeless  naturalism, — in  the  simple  identifica- 
tion of  all  things  with  God  and  ethically  in  an  intel- 
lectual arrogance  which  conceits  itself  as  the  depository 
of  the  secret  of  the  universe,  while  it  is  too  narrow  to 
know  even  the  facts. 

VII.  The  representation  of  the  doctrine  of  Dualism 
made  by  Hegel  and  his  followers  is  thoroughly  incorrect. 
Dualism  is,  of  course,  the  great  bugbear,  whether  it  relate 
to  the  finite  realities  of  consciousness  and  extension,  or 
to  the  contrast  of  the  finite  and  infinite  realities.  The 
predicates  in  these  cases  are  said  to  be  held  as  fixed  and 
insuperable  by  the  ordinary  doctrine  of  dualism,  whereas 
Hegelianism  introduces  identity,  even  the  identity  of 
contradictories.  In  particular  it  is  insisted  on  (1),  that 
on  the  ordinary  dualistic  presupposition,  as  it  is  called, 
there  is  an  absolute  opposition  between  the  infinite 


144 


INTRODUCTION 


and  the  finite;  and  (2),  that  this  is  nnphilosophical,  for 
the  finite  in  this  case  must  be  regarded  either  as  some- 
thing independent  of  the  infinite  — and  this  involves  an 
obvious  contradiction  — or  it  must  be  regarded  as  abso- 
lutely a nonentity.  Statements  of  this  sort  abound  in 
Hegelian  writings. 

One  preliminary  point  to  be  noted  here  is,  that  the 
doctrine  of  the  absolute  opposition  of  finite  and  infinite 
is  to  be  set  down  as  unphilosophical,  because  it  would 
involve  a transparent  contradiction.  As  contradiction  is 
a legitimate  moment  in  the  Hegelian  dialectic,  the  op- 
position must  so  far  be  right  enough;  and  even  if  the 
opposition  be  absolute,  the  absurdity  is  not  greater  than 
the  alleged  identity  of  the  two  terms,  by  which  it  is 
sought  to  solve  it.  The  consistent  coexistence  in  thought 
of  finite  and  infinite  is  certainly  not  a greater  absurdity 
than  a supposed  concept  in  which  the  two  become  iden- 
tical. Contradiction,  according  to  criticism  of  this  sort, 
must  be  absurd  when  it  is  regarded  as  fixed,  and  rational 
when  it  is  regarded  as  superable.  In  the  latter  case,  the 
only  mistake  is  that  there  was  no  contradiction  to  begin 
with.  But  is  this  a true  representation  of  the  position 
of  a dualistic  philosophy  in  the  matter  ? Is  a dualist  shut 
up  to  hold  either  the  absolute  independence  of  the  finite 
or  its  nonentity  ? Why  what  is  the  opposition  between 
the  infinite  and  finite  which  the  dualist  really  alleges  ? 
It  is  not  an  absolute  opposition  in  the  nature  of  things. 
It  is  an  opposition  merely  in  the  act  of  knowledge.  And 
the  dualist  is  entitled  to  say  this  with  a view  to  vindicate 
the  position,  until  it  is  proved  that  all  the  opposition  we 
think  is  identical  with  all  the  opposition  which  exists,  or 
that  these  are  convertible.  For  the  Hegelian  to  assume 
this  is  to  miss  the  whole  point  at  issue  between  him  and 
the  dualist.  The  dualist  does  not  accept  the  convertibility 
of  knowledge  and  existence,  and  it  is  only  on  this  as- 
sumption that  he  can  be  shut  up,  and  then  only  on  his 
own  principles  of  logic,  to  the  alternative  of  a contra- 
diction between  finite  and  infinite,  or  of  the  nonentity 
of  the  former,  or  for  that  matter,  of  the  latter  also. 
But  no  reasonably  intelligent  upholder  of  dualism,  or, 
which  is  the  same  thing,  the  relativity  of  knowledge, 
would  allow  that  the  opposition  which  he  finds  in  con- 
sciousness between  finite  and  infinite  is  an  absolute 


INTRODUCTION 


145 


opposition,  or  one  implying-  a fixity  or  absoluteness  in  the 
nature  of  things.  In  fact,  the  very  phrases,  limit  of 
knowledge  or  relativity  of  knowledge,  imply  that  the 
fixity  or  invariableness  of  the  limit  is  in  the  thought  or 
consciousness.  When  we  speak  of  a limit  to  the 

understanding,  we  speak  of  the  extent  of  our  power 
of  conceiving  things;  but  we  do  not  necessarily  im- 
ply that  the  things  conceived  are  really  permanently 
and  invariably  fixed  or  determined  by,  or  as  is  the 
capacity  of,  our  thought.  It  is  said  for  example, 

the  thought  of  finite  existence,  say  myself, — renders 
it  impossible  for  us  to  think  or  conceive  as  coexist- 
ing with  it  an  infinite  self  or  being.  For  the  sphere 

of  being  the  finite  self  occupies,  the  sum  of  our  being, 

is  excluded  from  that  sphere  or  sum  possessed  by 

the  infinite  self  whom  we  attempt  to  conceive,  and  he 
is  thus  conceived  as  limited.  But  in  doing  so  we  do 
not  affirm  that  a conciliation  of  this  inconceivable  is  im- 
possible, or  that  in  the  nature  of  things,  the  finite  and 
infinite  reality  which  we  vainly  attempt  to  conceive 
together  are  really  incompatible.  It  is,  therefore,  noth- 
ing to  the  point  to  talk  of  the  predicates  of  the  under- 
standing being  regarded  as  fixed,  permanent,  or  invariable, 
in  the  doctrine  of  the  limitation  of  knowledge;  for  this 
is,  after  all,  but  a subjective  limitation  which  is  main- 
tained, and  is  in  no  way  inconsistent  with  the  possibility 
of  being,  transcending  conception.  We  say  merely  that 
we  cannot  conceive  the  compatibility  of  an  infinite  being 
with  our  own  finite  existence.  We  do  not  say  or 
allow  that  what  we  conceive  is  necessarily  convertible 
with  what  is,  or  with  the  possibilities  of  being.  We  are 
not,  therefore,  shut  up  to  maintain  the  absolute  opposi- 
tion, and  consequently  the  absolute  contradiction  in 
reality,  of  infinite  and  finite.  Nor  are  we  therefore 
compelled  to  regard  the  finite  as  a nonentity  in  the 
interest  of  the  infinite,  nor  the  infinite  as  a nonentity 
in  the  interest  of  the  finite.  For  despite  the  limitation 
of  our  knowledge,  in  some  way  unknown  to  us  as  to 
process  or  ground,  the  co-reality  of  finite  and  infinite 
is,  after  all,  compatible.  Nay,  in  a transcendent  sense, 
all  being  may  be  one.  It  is  not  even  necessarily  main- 
tained on  the  doctrine  of  limitation  that  the  finite  is 
more  than  temporally  distinct  from  the  infinite.  Evi- 
io 


146 


INTRODUCTION 


dence  to  decide  those  points  must  be  sought  for  outside 
the  theory  of  limitation.  The  real  question  at  issue  be- 
tween absolutism  and  the  theory  of  limitation  is  not  as 
to  the  possibility  of  being  out  of  and  beyond  limit,  or 
being  that  surmounts  limit  — for  the  former  is  con- 
stantly loudly  proclaiming  this,  and  proclaiming  it  even 
as  the  only  real  being,  but  as  to  the  possibility  of  our 
knowing  such  being,  and  connecting  it  conceivably  and 
rationally  with  the  being  we  know  in  consciousness. 
Relativist  as  well  as  absolutist  maintains  being  above 
limit;  they  differ  simply  as  to  whether  this  can  come 
within  consciousness,  in  a sense  in  which  it  is  to  be  re- 
garded as  truly  and  properly  knowledge,  and  as  to 
whether  we  can  so  relate  the  definite  knowledge  and 
being  we  have  in  consciousness  with  this  transcendent 
something  called  knowledge  and  being.  If  what  has 
been  already  said  be  at  all  well  founded,  we  can  rise 
above  the  temporal  contrast  of  finite  and  infinite  in 
thought  only  by  sacrificing  knowledge,  by  becoming  the 
absolute  identity  of  the  two  we  are  supposed  to  know. 
In  this  region  we  may  expatiate  at  will  among  the 
(<  domos  vacuas  et  inania  regna  ® of  verbalism ; but  we 
shall  not  gather  from  it  either  what  is  fitted  to  increase 
the  reverence  of  the  heart,  or  what  may  help  us  to  read 
more  intelligently  the  lessons  of  the  past,  or  guide  us 
better  in  the  conduct  of  life. 

All  that  the  doctrine  of  limitation  requires  to  make  it 
consistent  and  valuable  is,  that  whatever  happens  in  the 
future  of  the  universe,  nothing  shall  occur  in  absolute 
contradiction  of  what  we  now  rationally  know  and  be- 
lieve. Our  present  consciousness  may  be,  probably  will 
be,  modified  — in  some  sense,  perhaps,  transcended.  But 
it  must  not  be  contradicted.  Our  analogical  knowledge 
of  God,  even  if  raised  to  the  stage  of  intuition,  will  re- 
ceive greater  compass,  directness,  and  certainty;  but  this 
will  not  be  at  the  expense  or  the  reversal  of  a single 
thoroughly-tested  intellectual  or  moral  conviction. 


DISCOURSE 


ON  THE 

METHOD  OF  RIGHTLY  CONDUCTING  THE 
REASON  AND  SEEKING  TRUTH 
IN  THE  SCIENCES 


DESCARTES 


TRANSLATED  FROM  THE  FRENCH  AND  COLLATED 
WITH  THE  LATIN 


(147) 


PREFATORY  NOTE  BY  THE  AUTHOR. 


If  this  Discourse  appear  too  long  to  be  read  at  once, 
it  may  be  divided  into  six  parts:  and,  in  the  first,  will 
be  found  various  considerations  touching  the  Sciences; 
in  the  second,  the  principal  rules  of  the  Method  which 
the  Author  has  discovered;  in  the  third,  certain  of  the 
rules  of  Morals  which  he  has  deduced  from  this  Method; 
in  the  fourth,  the  reasonings  by  which  he  establishes  the 
existence  of  God  and  of  the  Human  Soul,  which  are  the 
foundations  of  his  Metaphysic;  in  the  fifth,  the  order  of 
the  Physical  questions  which  he  has  investigated,  and,  in 
particular,  the  explication  of  the  motion  of  the  heart  and 
of  some  other  difficulties  pertaining  to  Medicine,  as  also 
the  difference  between  the  soul  of  man  and  that  of  the 
brutes;  and,  in  the  last,  what  the  Author  believes  to  be 
required  in  order  to  greater  advancement  in  the  investiga- 
tion of  Nature  than  has  yet  been  made,  with  the  reasons 
that  have  induced  him  to  write. 

(148) 


DISCOURSE  ON  METHOD. 


PART  I. 

Good  Sense  is,  of  all  things  among  men,  the  most 
equally  distributed;  for  every  one  thinks  himself  so 
abundantly  provided  with  it,  that  those  even  who  are  the 
most  difficult  to  satisfy  in  everything  else,  do  not  usually 
desire  a larger  measure  of  this  quality  than  they  already 
possess.  And  in  this  it  is  not  likely  that  all  are  mis- 
taken: the  conviction  is  rather  to  be  held  as  testifying 
that  the  power  of  judging  aright  and  of  distinguishing 
Truth  from  Error,  which  is  properly  what  is  called  Good 
Sense  or  Reason,  ~is  by nature  equal  in  all  men  ; and 
that  the  diversity  of  our  opinions,  consequently,  does  not 
arise  from  some  being  endowed  with  a larger  share  of 
Reason  than  others,  but  solely  from  this,  that  we  con- 
duct our  thoughts  along  different  ways,  and  do  not  fix 
our  attention  on  the  same  objects.  For  to  be  possessed 
of  a vigorous  mind  is  not  enough ; the  prime  requisite  is 
rightly  to  apply  it.  The  greatest  minds,  as  they  are 
capable  of  the  highest  excellencies,  are  open  likewise  to 
the  greatest  aberrations ; and  those  who  travel  very 
slowly  may  yet  make  far  greater  progress,  provided  they 
keep  always  to  the  straight  road,  than  those  who,  while 
they  run,  forsake  it. 

For  myself,  I have  never  fancied  my  mind  to  be  in 
any  respect  more  perfect  than  those  of  the  generality; 
on  the  contrary,  I have  often  wished  that  I were  equal 
to  some  others  in  promptitude  of  thought,  or  in  clear- 
ness and  distinctness  of  imagination,  or  in  fullness  and 
readiness  of  memory.  And  besides  these,  I know  of  no 
other  qualities  that  contribute  to  the  perfection  of  the 
mind;  for  as  to  the  Reason  or  Sense,  inasmuch  as  it  is 
that  alone  which  constitutes  us  men,  and  distinguishes  us 
from  the- brute  s^I  .am.  disposed,  to  believe  that  it  is  to  be 
found  complete  in  each  individual;  and  on  this  point  to 

(149) 


‘DISCOURSE 


150 

adopt  the  common  opinion  of  philosophers,  who  say  that 
the  difference  of  greater  and  less  holds  only  among  the 
accidents,  and  not  among  the  forms  or  natures  of  in- 
dividuals of  the  same  species. 

I will  not  hesitate,  however,  to  avow  my  belief  that  it 
has  been  my  singular  good  fortune  to  have  very  early 
in  life  fallen  in  with  certain  tracks  which  have  conducted 
me  to  considerations  and  maxims,  of  which  I have  formed 
a Method  that  gives  me  the  means,  as  I think,  of  gradu- 
ally augmenting  my  knowledge,  and  of  raising  it  by  little 
and  little  to  the  highest  point  which  the  mediocrity  of 
my  talents  and  the  brief  duration  of  my  life  will  permit 
me  to  reach.  For  I have  already  reaped  from  it  such 
fruits,  that,  although  I have  been  accustomed  to  think 
lowly  enough  of  myself,  and  although  when  I look  with 
the  eye  of  a philosopher  at  the  varied  courses  and  pur- 
suits of  mankind  at  large,  I find  scarcely  one  which  does 
not  appear  vain  and  useless,  I nevertheless  derive  the 
highest  satisfaction  from  the  progress  I conceive  myself 
to  have  already  made  in  the  search  after  truth,  and  can- 
not help  entertaining  such  expectations  of  the  future  as 
to  believe  that  if,  among  the  occupations  of  men  as  men, 
there  is  any  one  really  excellent  and  important,  it  is  that 
which  I have  chosen. 

After  all,  it  is  possible  I may  be  mistaken;  and  it  is 
but  a little  copper  and  glass,  perhaps,  that  I take  for 
gold  and  diamonds.  I know  how  very  liable  we  are  to 
delusion  in  what  relates  to  ourselves,  and  also  how  much 
the  judgments  of  our  friends  are  to  be  suspected  when 
given  in  our  favor.  But  I shall  endeavor  in  this  Dis- 
course to  describe  the  paths  I have  followed,  and  to 
delineate  my  life  as  in  a picture,  in  order  that  each  one 
may  be  able  to  judge  of  them  for  himself,  and  that  in 
the  general  opinion  entertained  of  them,  as  gathered  from 
current  report,  I myself  may  have  a new  help  toward 
instruction  to  be  added  to  those  I have  been  in  the  habit 
of  employing. 

My  present  design,  then,  is  not  to  teach  the  Method 
which  each  ought  to  follow  for  the  right  conduct  of  his 
Reason,  but  solely  to  describe  the  way  in  which  I have 
endeavored  to  conduct  my  own.  They  who  set  them- 
selves to  give  precepts  must  of  course  regard  themselves 
as  possessed  of  greater  skill  than  those  to  whom  they 


ON  METHOD 


151 

prescribe ; and  if  they  err  in  the  slightest  particular,  they 
subject  themselves  to  censure.  But  as  this  Tract  is  put 
forth  merely  as  a history,  or,  if  you  will,  as  a tale,  in 
which,  amid  some  examples  worthy  of  imitation,  there 
will  be  found,  perhaps,  as  many  more  which  it  were  ad- 
visable not  to  follow,  I hope  it  will  prove  useful  to  some 
without  being  hurtful  to  any,  and  that  my  openness  will 
find  some  favor  with  all. 

From  my  childhood,  I have  been  familiar  with  letters; 
and  as  I was  given  to  believe  that  by  their  help  a clear 
and  certain  knowledge  of  all  that  is  useful  in  life  might 
be  acquired,  I was  ardently  desirous  of  instruction.  But 
as  soon  as  I had  finished  the  entire  course  of  study,  at 
the  close  of  which  it  is  customary  to  be  admitted  into 
the  order  of  the  learned,  I completely  changed  my  opin- 
ion. For  I found  myself  involved  in  so  many  doubts  and 
errors,  that  I was  convinced  I had  advanced  no  farther 
in  all  my  attempts  at  learning,  than  the  discovery  at 
every  turn  of  my  own  ignorance.  And  yet  I was  study- 
ing in  one  of  the  most  celebrated  Schools  in  Europe,  in 
which  I thought  there  must  be  learned  men,  if  such  were 
anywhere  to  be  found.  I had  been  taught  all  that  others 
learned  there;  and  not  contented  with  the  sciences  actually 
taught  us,  I had,  in  addition,  read  all  the  books  that  had 
fallen  into  my  hands,  treating  of  such  branches  as  are 
esteemed  the  most  curious  and  rare.  I knew  the  judg- 
ment which  others  had  formed  of  me ; and  I did  not  find 
that  I was  considered  inferior  to  my  fellows,  although 
there  were  among  them  some  who  were  already  marked 
out  to  fill  the  places  of  our  instructors.  And,  in  fine,  our 
age  appeared  to  me  as  flourishing,  and  as  fertile  in  pow- 
erful minds  as  any  preceding  one.  I was  thus  led  to  take 
the  liberty  of  judging  of  all  other  men  by  myself,  and  of 
concluding  that  there  was  no  science  in  existence  that 
was  of  such  a nature  as  I had  previously  been  given  to 
believe. 

I still  continued,  however,  to  hold  in  esteem  the  studies 
of  the  Schools.  I was  aware  that  the  Languages  taught 
in  them  are  necessary  to  the  understanding  of  the  writings 
of  the  ancients;  that  the  grace  of  Fable  stirs  the  mind; 
that  the  memorable  deeds  of  History  elevate  it;  and,  if 
read  with  discretion,  aid  in  forming  the  judgment;  that 
the  perusal  of  all  excellent  books  is,  as  it  were,  to  inter* 


DISCOURSE 


152 

view  with  the  noblest  men  of  past  ages,  who  have  written 
them,  and  even  a studied  interview,  in  which  are  dis- 
covered to  us  only  their  choicest  thoughts ; that  Eloquence 
has  incomparable  force  and  beauty;  that  Poesy  has  its 
ravishing  graces  and  delights;  that  in  the  Mathematics 
there  are  many  refined  discoveries  eminently  suited  to 
gratify  the  inquisitive,  as  well  as  further  all  the  arts  and 
lessen  the  labor  of  man;  that  numerous  highly  useful 
precepts  and  exhortations  to  virtue  are  contained  in 
treatises  on  Morals ; that  Theology  points  out  the  path  to 
heaven ; that  Philosophy  affords  the  means  of  discoursing 
with  an  appearance  of  truth  on  all  matters,  and  com- 
mands the  admiration  of  the  more  simple;  that  Juris- 
prudence, Medicine,  and  the  other  Sciences,  secure  for 
their  cultivators  honors  and  riches;  and,  in  fine,  that  it 
is  useful  to  bestow  some  attention  upon  all,  even  upon 
those  abounding  the  most  in  superstition  and  error,  that 
we  may  be  in  a position  to  determine  their  real  value, 
and  guard  against  being  deceived. 

But  I believed  that  I had  already  given  sufficient  time 
to  Languages,  and  likewise  to  the  reading  of  the  writ- 
ings of  the  ancients,  to  their  Histories  and  Fables. 
For  to  hold  converse  with  those  of  other  ages  and  to 
travel,  are  almost  the  same  thing.  It  is  useful  to  know 
something  of  the  manners  of  different  nations,  that 
we  may  be  enabled  to  form  a more  correct  judgment 
regarding  our  own,  and  be  prevented  from  thinking  that 
everything  contrary  to  our  customs  is  ridiculous  and 
irrational, — a conclusion  usually  come  to  by  those  whose 
experience  has  been  limited  to  their  own  country.  On 
the  other  hand,  when  too  much  time  is  occupied  in 
traveling,  we  become  strangers  to  our  native  country; 
and  the  over-curious  in  the  customs  of  the  past  are 
generally  ignorant  of  those  of  the  present.  Besides, 
fictitious  narratives  lead  us  to  imagine  the  possibility  of 
many  events  that  are  impossible ; and  even  the  most 
faithful  histories,  if  they  do  not  wholly  misrepresent 
matters,  or  exaggerate  their  importance  to  render  the 
account  of  them  more  worthy  of  perusal,  omit,  at  least, 
almost  always  the  meanest  and  least  striking  of  the 
attendant  circumstances;  hence  it  happens  that  the  re- 
mainder does  not  represent  the  truth,  and  that  such  as 
regulate  their  conduct  by  examples  drawn  from  this  source, 


ON  METHOF 


153 


are  apt  to  fall  into  the  extravagances  of  the  knight- 
errants  of  Romance,  and  to  entertain  projects  that  exceed 
their  powers. 

I esteemed  Eloquence  highly,  and  was  in  raptures  with 
Poesy,  but  I thought  that  both  were  gifts  of  nature 
rather  than  fruits  of  study.  Those  in  whom  the  faculty 
of  Reason  is  predominant  and  who  most  skillfully  dispose 
their  thoughts  with  a view  to  render  them  clear  and  in- 
telligible, are  always  the  best  able  to  persuade  others  of 
the  truth  of  what  they  lay  down,  though  they  should 
speak  only  in  the  language  of  Lower  Brittany,  and  be 
wholly  ignorant  of  the  rules  of  Rhetoric;  and  those  whose 
minds  are  stored  with  the  most  agreeable  fancies,  and 
who  can  give  expression  to  them  with  the  greatest  em- 
bellishment and  harmony,  are  still  the  best  poets,  though 
unacquainted  with  the  Art  of  Poetry. 

I was  especially  delighted  with  the  Mathematics,  on 
account  of  the  certitude  and  evidence  of  their  reason- 
ings : but  I had  not  as  yet  a precise  knowledge  of 
their  true  use;  and  thinking  that  they  but  contributed 
to  the  advancement  of  the  mechanical  arts,  I was  as- 
tonished that  foundations,  so  strong  and  solid,  should 
have  had  no  loftier  superstructure  reared  on  them. 
On  the  other  hand,  I compared  the  disquisitions  of  the 
ancient  Moralists  to  very  towering  and  magnificent 
palaces  with  no  better  foundation  than  sand  and  mud: 
they  laud  the  virtues  very  highly,  and  exhibit  them  as 
estimable  far  above  anything  on  earth;  but  they  give 
us  no  adequate  criterion  of  virtue,  and  frequently  that 
which  they  designate  with  so  fine  a name  is  but  apathy, 
or  pride,  or  despair,  or  parricide. 

I revered  our  Theology,  and  aspired  as  much  as  any 
one  to  reach  heaven:  hut  being  given  assuredly  to 
understand  that  the  way  is  not  less  open  to  the  most 
ignorant  than  to  the  most  learned,  and  that  the  re- 
vealed truths  which  lead  to  heaven  are  above  our 
comprehension,  I did  not  presume  to  subject  them  to 
the  impotency  of  my  Reason;  and  I thought  that  in 
order  competently  to  undertake  their  examination, 
there  was  need  of  some  special  help  from  heaven,  and 
of  being  more  than  man. 

Of  Philosophy  I will  say  nothing,  except  that  when 
I saw  that  it  had  been  cultivated  for  many  ages  by  the 


‘54 


DISCOURSE 


most  distinguished  men,  and  that  yet  there  is  not  a 
single  matter  within  its  sphere  which  is  not  still  in 
dispute,  and  nothing,  therefore,  which  is  above  doubt, 
I did  not  presume  to  anticipate  that  my  success  would  be 
greater  in  it  than  that  of  others;  and  further,  when 
I considered  the  number  of  conflicting  opinions  touching 
a single  matter  that  may  be  upheld  by  learned  men, 
while  there  can  be  but  one  true,  I reckoned  as  well-nigh 
false  all  that  was  only  probable. 

As  to  the  other  Sciences,  inasmuch  as  these  borrow 
their  principles  from  Philosophy,  I judged  that  no  solid 
superstructures  could  be  reared  on  foundations  so  infirm; 
and  neither  the  honor  nor  the  gain  held  out  by  them 
was  sufficient  to  determine  me  to  their  cultivation:  for  I 
was  not,  thank  Heaven,  in  a condition  which  compelled 
me  to  make  merchandise  of  Science  for  the  bettering  of 
my  fortune ; and  though  I might  not  profess  to  scorn  glory 
as  a Cynic,  I yet  made  very  slight  account  of  that  honor 
which  I hoped  to  acquire  only  through  fictitious  titles. 
And,  in  fine,  of  false  Sciences  I thought  I knew  the 
worth  sufficiently  to  escape  being  deceived  by  the  pro- 
fessions of  an  alchemist,  the  predictions  of  an  astrologer, 
the  impostures  of  a magician,  or  by  the  artifices  and 
boasting  of  any  of  those  who  profess  to  know  things  of 
which  they  are  ignorant. 

For  these  reasons,  as  soon  as  my  age  permitted  me  to 
pass  from  under  the  control  of  my  instructors,  I entirely 
abandoned  the  study  of  letters,  and  resolved  no  longer  to 
seek  any  other  science  than  the  knowledge  of  myself,  or 
of  the  great  book  of  the  world.  I spent  the  remainder  of 
my  youth  in  traveling,  in  visiting  courts  and  armies,  in 
holding  intercourse  with  men  of  different  dispositions  and 
ranks,  in  collecting  varied  experience,  in  proving  myself 
in  the  different  situations  into  which  fortune  threw  me, 
and,  above  all,  in  making  such  reflection  on  the  matter  of 
my  experience  as  to  secure  my  improvement.  _For  it 
occurred  to  me  that  I should  find  much  more  truth  in 
the  reasonings  of  each  individual  with  reference  to  the 
affairs  in  which  he  is  personally  interested,  and  the  issue 
of  which  must  presently  punish  him  if  he  has  judged 
amiss,  than  in  those  conducted  by  a man  of  letters  in  his 
Study,  regarding  speculative  matters  that  are  of  no  prac- 
tical moment,  and  followed  by  no  consequences  to  him- 


ON  METHOD 


*55 


Sell,  farther,  perhaps,  than  that  they  foster  his  vanity  the 
better  the  more  remote  they  are  from  common  sense; 
requiring,  as  they  must  in  this  case,  the  exercise  of 
greater  ingenuity  and  art  to  render  them  probable.  In 
addition,  I had  always  a most  earnest  desire  to  know 
how  to  distinguish  the  true  from  the  false,  in  order  that 
I might  be  able  clearly  to  discriminate  the  right  path  in 
life,  and  proceed  in  it  with  confidence. 

It  is  true  that,  while  busied  only  in  considering  the 
manners  of  other  men,  I found  here,  too,  scarce  any 
ground  for  settled  conviction,  and  remarked  hardly  less 
contradiction  among  them  than  in  the  opinions  of  the 
philosophers.  So  that  the  greatest  advantage  I derived 
from  the  study  consisted  in  this,  that,  observing  many 
things  which,  however  extravagant  and  ridiculous  to  our 
apprehension,  are  yet  by  common  consent  received  and 
approved  by  other  great  nations,  I learned  to  entertain 
too  decided  a belief  in  regard  to  nothing  of  the  truth  oi 
which  I had  been  persuaded  merely  by  example  and  cus- 
tom; and  thus  I gradually  extricated  myself  from  many 
errors  powerful  enough  to  darken  our  Natural  Intelli- 
gence, and  incapacitate  us  in  great  measure  from  listen- 
ing to  Reason.  But  after  I had  been  occupied  several 
years  in  thus  studying  the  book  of  the  world,  and  in 
essaying  to  gather  some  experience,  I at  length  re- 
solved to  make  myself  an  object  of  study,  and  to  employ 
all  the  powers  of  my  mind  in  choosing  the  paths  I ought 
to  follow;  an  undertaking  which  was  accompanied  with 
greater  success  than  it  would  have  been  had  I never 
quitted  my  country  or  my  books. 


PART  II. 

I was  then  in  Germany,  attracted  thither  by  the  wars 
in  that  country,  which  have  not  yet  been  brought  to  a 
termination;  and  as  I was  returning  to  the  army  from 
the  coronation  of  the  Emperor,  the  setting  in  of  winter 
arrested  me  in  a locality  where,  as  I found  no  society  to 
interest  me,  and  was  besides  fortunately  undisturbed  by 
any  cares  or  passions,  I remained  the  whole  day  in  secln 
sion,  with  full  opportunity  to  occupy  my  attention  with 


156 


DISCOURSE 


my  own  thoughts.  Of  these  one  of  the  very  first  that 
occurred  to  me  was,  that  there  is  seldom  so  much  per- 
fection in  works  composed  of  many  separate  parts,  upon 
which  different  hands  have  been  employed,  as  in  those 
completed  by  a single  master.  Thus  it  is  observable  that 
the  buildings  which  a single  architect  has  planned  and 
executed,  are  generally  more  elegant  and  commodious 
than  those  which  several  have  attempted  to  improve,  by 
making  old  walls  serve  for  purposes  for  which  they  wer$ 
not  originally  built.  Thus  also,  those  ancient  cities  which, 
from  being  at  first  only  villages,  have  become,  in  course 
of  time,  large  towns,  are  usually  but  ill  laid  out  com- 
pared with  the  regularly  constructed  towns  which  a pro- 
fessional architect  has  freely  planed  on  an  open  plain; 
so  that  although  the  several  buildings  of  the  former  may 
often  equal  or  surpass  in  beauty  those  of  the  latter,  yet 
when  one  observes  their  indiscriminate  juxtaposition, 
there  a large  one  and  here  a small,  and  the  consequent 
crookedness  and  irregularity  of  the  streets,  one  is  dis- 
posed to  allege  that  chance  rather  than  any  human  will  guid- 
ed by  reason,  must  have  led  to  such  an  arrangement.  And 
if  we  consider  that  nevertheless  there  have  been  at  all 
times  certain  officers  whose  duty  it  was  to  see  that  private 
buildings  contributed  to  public  ornament,  the  difficulty 
of  reaching  high  perfection  with  but  the  materials  of 
others  to  operate  on,  will  be  readily  acknowledged.  In 
the  same  way  I fancied  that  those  nations  which,  start- 
ing from  a semi-barbarous  state  and  advancing  to  civi- 
lization by  slow  degrees,  have  had  their  laws  successively 
determined,  and,  as  it  were,  forced  upon  them  simply 
by  experience  of  the  hurtfulness  of  particular  crimes  and 
disputes,  would  by  this  process  come  to  be  possessed  of 
less  perfect  institutions  than  those  which,  from  the  com- 
mencement of  their  association  as  communities,  have  fol- 
lowed the  appointments  of  some  wise  legislator.  It  is 
thus  quite  certain  that  the  constitution  of  the  true  religion, 
the  ordinances  of  which  are  derived  from  God,  must  be 
incomparably  superior  to  that  of  every  other.  And,  to 
speak  of  human  affairs,  I believe  that  the  past  pre-emi- 
nence of  Sparta  was  due  not  to  the  goodness  of  each  of 
its  laws  in  particular,  for  many  of  these  were  very  strange, 
and  even  opposed  to  good  morals,  but  to  the  circum- 
stance that,  originated  by  a single  individual,  they  all 


ON  METHOD 


1 57 

tended  to  a single  end.  In  the  same  way  I thought  that 
the  sciences  contained  in  books  (such  of  them  at  least 
as  are  made  up  of  probable  reasonings,  without  demon- 
strations), composed  as  they  are  of  the  opinions  of  many 
different  individuals  massed  together,  are  farther  removed 
from  truth  than  the  simple  inferences  which  a man  of 
good  sense  using  his  natural  and  unprejudiced  judgment 
draws  respecting  the  matters  of  his  experience.  And 
because  we  have  all  to  pass  through  a state  of  infancy 
to  manhood,  and  have  been  of  necessity,  for  a length  of 
time,  governed  by  our  desires  and  preceptors  (whose 
dictates  were  frequently  conflicting,  while  neither  perhaps 
always  counseled  us  for  the  best),  I farther  concluded 
that  it  is  almost  impossible  that  our  judgments  can  be 
so  correct  or  solid  as  they  would  have  been,  had  our 
Reason  been  mature  from  the  moment  of  our  birth,  and 
had  we  alwaygjbeen  guided  by  it  alone. 

It  is  true,  however,  that  it  is  not  customary  to  pull 
down  all  the  houses  of  a town  with  the  single  design  of 
rebuilding  them  differently,  and  thereby  rendering  the 
streets  more  handsome ; but  it  often  happens  that  a pri- 
vate individual  takes  down  his  own  with  the  view  of 
erecting  it  anew,  and  that  people  are  even  sometimes  con- 
strained to  this  when  their  houses  are  in  danger  of  falling 
from  age,  or  when  the  foundations  are  insecure.  With 
this  before  me  by  way  of  example,  I was  persuaded  that 
it  would  indeed  be  preposterous  for  a private  individual 
to  think  of  reforming  a state  by  fundamentally  changing 
it  throughout,  and  overturning  it  in  order  to  set  it  up 
amended;  and  the  same  I thought  was  true  of  any  simi- 
lar project  for  reforming  the  body  of  the  Sciences,  or 
the  order  of  teaching  them  established  in  the  Schools: 
but  as  for  the  opinions  which  up  to  that  time  I had  em- 
braced, I thought  that  I could  not  do  better  than  re- 
solve at  once  to  sweep  them  wholly  away,  that  I might 
afterward  be  in  a position  to  admit  either  others  more 
correct,  or  even  perhaps  the  same  when  they  had  under- 
gone the  scrutiny  of  Reason.  I firmly  believed  that  in 
this  way  I should  much  better  succeed  in  the  conduct  of 
my  life,  than  if  I built  only  upon  old  foundations,  and 
leaned  upon  principles  which,  in  my  youth,  I had  taken 
upon  trust.  For  although  I recognized  various  difficulties 
in  this  undertaking,  these  were  not,  however,  without 


iS8 


DISCOURSE 


remedy,  nor  once  to  be  compared  with  such  as  attend 
the  slightest  reformation  in  public  affairs.  Large  bodies, 
if  once  overthrown,  are  with  great  difficulty  set  up  again, 
or  even  kept  erect  when  once  seriously  shaken,  and  the 
fall  of  such  is  always  disastrous.  Then  if  there  are  any 
imperfections  in  the  constitutions  of  states  (and  that 
many  such  exist  the  diversity  of  constitutions  is  alone 
sufficient  to  assure  us),  custom  has  without  doubt  mate- 
rially smoothed  their  inconveniences,  and  has  even  man- 
aged to  steer  altogether  clear  of,  or  insensibly  corrected, 
a number  which  sagacity  could  not  have  provided  against 
with  equal  effect;  and,  in  fine,  the  defects  are  almost 
always  more  tolerable  than  the  change  necessary  for  their 
removal;  in  the  same  manner  that  highways  which  wind 
among  mountains,  by  being’  much  frequented,  become 
gradually  so  smooth  and  commodious,  that  it  is  much 
better  to  follow  them  than  to  seek  a straighter  path  by 
climbing  over  the  tops  of  rocks  and  descending  to  the 
bottoms  of  precipices. 

Hence  it  is*  that  I cannot  in  any  degree  approve  of 
those  restless  and  busy  meddlers  who,  called  neither  by 
birth  nor  fortune  to  take  part  in  the  management  of 
public  affairs,  are  yet  always  projecting  reforms;  and  if 
I thought  that  this  Tract  contained  aught  which  might 
justify  the  suspicion  that  I was  a victim  of  such  folly,  I 
would  by  no  means  permit  its  publication.  I have  never 
contemplated  anything  higher  than  the  reformation  of  my 
own  opinions,  and  basing  them  on  a foundation  wholly 
my  own.  And  although  my  own  satisfaction  with  my 
work  has  led  me  to  present  here  a draft  of  it,  I do  not 
by  any  means  therefore  recommend  to  everyone  else  to 
make  a similar  attempt.  Those  whom  God  has  endowed 
with  a larger  measure  of  genius  will  entertain,  perhaps, 
designs  still  more  exalted;  but  for  the  many  I am  much 
afraid  lest  even  the  present  undertaking  be  more  than 
they  can  safely  venture  to  imitate.  The  single  design  to 
strip  oneself  of  all  past  beliefs  is  one  that  ought  not 
to  be  taken  by  everyone.  The  majority  of  men  is  com- 
posed of  two  classes,  for  neither  of  which  would  this  be 
at  all  a befitting  resolution:  in  the  first  place,  of  those 
who  with  more  than  a due  confidence  in  their  own 
powers,  are  precipitate  in  their  judgments  and  want  the 
patience  requisite  for  orderly  and  circumspect  thinking; 


ON  METHOD 


159 

whence  it  happens,  that  if  men  of  this  class  once  take 
the  liberty  to  doubt  of  their  accustomed  opinions,  and 
quit  the  beaten  highway,  they  will  never  be  able  to 
thread  the  byway  that  would  lead  them  by  a shorter 
course,  and  will  lose  themselves  and  continue  to  wander 
for  life;  in  the  second  place,  of  those  who,  possessed  of 
sufficient  sense  of  modesty  to  determine  that  there  are 
others  who  excel  them  in  the  power  of  discriminating 
between  truth  and  error,  and  by  whom  they  may  be 
instructed,  ought  rather  to  content  themselves  with  the 
opinions  of  such  than  trust  for  more  correct  to  their  own 
Reason. 

For  my  own  part,  I should  doubtless  have  belonged  to 
the  latter  class,  had  I received  instruction  from  but  one 
master,  or  had  I never  known  the  diversities  of  opinion 
that  from  time  immemorial  have  prevailed  among  men 
of  the  greatest  learning.  But  I had  become  aware,  even 
so  early  as  during  my  college  life,  that  no  opinion,  how- 
ever absurd  and  incredible,  can  be  imagined,  which  has 
not  been  maintained  by  some  one  of  the  philosophers; 
and  afterward  in  the  course  of  my  travels  I remarked 
that  all  those  whose  opinions  are  decidedly  repugnant  to 
ours  are  not  on  that  account  barbarians  and  savages,  but 
on  the  contrary  that  many  of  these  nations  make  an 
equally  good,  if  not  a better,  use  of  their  Reason  than 
we  do.  I took  into  account  also  the  very  different  char- 
acter which  a person  brought  up  from  infancy  in  France 
or  Germany  exhibits,  from  that  which,  with  the  same 
mind  originally,  this  individual  would  have  possessed  had 
he  lived  always  among  the  Chinese  or  with  savages,  and 
the  circumstance  that  in  dress  itself  the  fashion  which 
pleased  us  ten  years  ago,  and  which  may  again,  perhaps, 
be  received  into  favor  before  ten  years  have  gone,  ap- 
pears to  us  at  this  moment  extravagant  and  ridiculous. 
I was  thus  led  to  infer  that  the  ground  of  our  opinions 
is  far  more  custom  and  example  than  any  certain  knowl- 
edge. And,  finally,  although  such  be  the  ground  of  our 
opinions,  I remarked  that  a plurality  of  suffrages  is  no 
guarantee  of  truth  where  it  is  at  all  of  difficult  discov- 
ery, as  in  such  cases  it  is  much  more  likely  that  it  will 
be  found  by  one  than  by  many.  I could,  however,  select 
from  the  crowd  no  one  whose  opinions  seemed  worthy  of 
preference,  and  thus  I found  myself  constrained,  as  it 


i6o 


DISCOURSE 


were,  to  use  my  own  Reason  in  the  conduct  of  my 

life. 

But  like  one  walking  alone  and  in  the  dark,  I resolved 
to  proceed  so  slowly  and  with  such  circumspection,  that 
if  I did  not  advance  far,  I would  at  least  guard  against 
falling.  I did  not  even  choose  to  dismiss  summarily  any 
of  the  opinions  that  had  crept  into  my  belief  without 
having  been  introduced  by  Reason,  but  first  of  all  took 
sufficient  time  carefully  to  satisfy  myself  of  the  general 
nature  of  the  task  I was  setting  myself,  and  ascertain 
the  true  Method  by  which  to  arrive  at  the  knowledge  of 
whatever  lay  within  the  compass  of  my  powers. 

Among  the  branches  of  Philosophy,  I had,  at  an  ear- 
lier period,  given  some  attention  to  Logic,  and  among 
those  of  the  Mathematics  to  Geometrical  Analysis  and 
Algebra, — three  Arts  or  Sciences  which  ought,  as  I con- 
ceived, to  contribute  something  to  my  design.  But,  on 
examination,  I found  that,  as  for  Logic,  its  syllogisms 
and  the  majority  of  its  other  precepts  are  of  avail  rather 
in  the  communication  of  what  we  already  know,  or  even 
as  the  Art  of  Lully,  in  speaking  without  judgment  of 
things  of  which  we  are  ignorant,  than  in  the  investiga- 
tion of  the  unknown;  and  although  this  Science  contains 
indeed  a number  of  correct  and  very  excellent  precepts, 
there  are,  nevertheless,  so  many  others,  and  these  either 
injurious  or  superfluous,  mingled  with  the  former,  that 
it  is  almost  quite  as  difficult  to  effect  a severance  of  the 
true  from  the  false  as  it  is  to  extract  a Diana  or  a 
Minerva  from  a rough  block  of  marble.  Then  as  to  the 
Analysis  of  the  ancients  and  the  Algebra  of  the  mod- 
ems, besides  that  they  embrace  only  matters  highly 
abstract,  and,  to  appearance,  of  no  use,  the  former  is  so 
exclusively  restricted  to  the  consideration  of  figures,  that 
it  can  exercise  the  Understanding  only  on  condition  of 
greatly  fatiguing  the  Imagination;*  and,  in  the  latter, 
there  is  so  complete  a subjection  to  certain  rules  and 
formulas,  that  there  results  an  art  full  of  confusion  and 
obscurity  calculated  to  embarrass,  instead  of  a science 
fitted  to  cultivate  the  mind.  By  these  considerations  I 
was  induced  to  seek  some  other  Method  which  would 
comprise  the  advantages  of  the  three  and  be  exempt 

* The  Imagination  must  here  be  taken  as  equivalent  simply  to  the 
Representative  Faculty. — Tr. 


ON  METHOD 


i6i 


from  their  defects.  And  as  a multitude  of  laws  often 
only  hampers  justice,  so  that  a state  is  best  governed 
when,  with  few  laws,  these  are  rigidly  administered;  in 
like  manner,  instead  of  the  great  number  of  precepts  of 
which  Logic  is  composed,  I believed  that  the  four  fol- 
lowing would  prove  perfectly  sufficient  for  me,  provided 
I took  the  firm  and  unwavering  resolution  never  in  a 
single  instance  to  fail  in  observing  them. 

The  first  was  never  to.  accept  anything  for  true. which 
I did  not  clearly  know  to  be  such;  that  is  to  say,  care- 
fully to  avoid  precipitancy  and  prejudice,  and  to  comprise 
nothing  more  in  my  judgment  than  what  was  presented 
to  my  mind  so  clearly  and  distinctly  as  to  exclude  all 
ground  of  doubt. 

The  second,  to  divide  each  of  the  difficulties  under  ex- 
amination into  as  many  ''parts'" as"  possible,  and  as  might 
be  necessary  for  its  adequate  solution. 

The  third,  to  conduct  my  thoughts  in  such  order  that, 
by  commencing  with  objects  the  simplest  and  easiest  to 
know,  I might  ascend  by  little  and  little,  and,  as  it  were, 
step  by  step,  to  the  knowledge  of  the  more  complex; 
assigning  in  thought  a certain  order  even  to  those  objects 
which  in  their  own  nature  do  not  stand  in  a relation  of 
antecedence  and  sequence. 

At  the  last,  in  every  case  to  make  enumerations  so 
complete,  and  reviews  so  general,  that  I might  be  as- 
sured that  nothing  was  omitted. 

The  long  chains  of  simple  and  easy  reasonings  by  means 
of  which  geometers  are  accustomed  to  reach  the  conclu- 
sions of  their  most  difficult  demonstrations,  had  led  me 
to  imagine  that  all  things,  to  the  knowledge  of  which 
man  is  competent,  are  mutually  connected  in  the  same 
way,  and  that  there  is  nothing  so  far  removed  from  us 
as  to  be  beyond  our  reach,  or  so  hidden  that  we  cannot 
discover  it,  provided  only  we  abstain  from  accepting  the 
false  for  the  true,  and  always  preserve  in  our  thoughts 
the  order  necessary  for  the  deduction  of  one  truth  from 
another.  And  I had  little  difficulty  in  determining  the 
objects  with  which  it  was  necessary  to  commence,  for  I 
was  already  persuaded  that  it  must  be  with  the  simplest 
and  easiest  to  know,  and  considering  that  of  all  those 
who  have  hitherto  sought  truth  in  the  Sciences,  the 
mathematicians  alone  have  been  able  to  find  any  demon- 


DISCOURSE 


162 

strations,  that  is,  any  certain  and  evident  reasons,  I did 
not  doubt  but  that  such  must  have  been  the  rule  of  their 
investigations.  I resolved  to  commence,  therefore,  with 
the  examination  of  the  simplest  objects,  not  anticipating, 
however,  from  this  any  other  advantage  than  that  to  be 
found  in  accustoming  my  mind  to  the  love  and  nourish- 
ment of  truth,  and  to  a distaste  for  all  such  reasonings 
as  were  unsound.  But  I had  no  intention  on  that  account 
of  attempting  to  master  all  the  particular  Sciences  com- 
monly denominated  Mathematics:  but  observing  that, 
however  different  their  objects,  they  all  agree  in  consid- 
ering only  the  various  relations  or  proportions  subsisting 
among  those  objects,  I thought  it  best  for  my  purpose  to 
consider  these  proportions  in  the  most  general  form  pos- 
sible, without  referring  them  to  any  objects  in  particular, 
except  such  as  would  most  facilitate  the  knowledge  of 
them,  and  without  by  any  means  restricting  them  to 
these,  that  afterward  I might  thus  be  the  better  able  to 
apply  them  to  every  other  class  of  objects  to  which  they 
are  legitimately  applicable.  Perceiving  further,  that  in 
order  to  understand  these  relations  I should  sometimes 
have  to  consider  them  one  by  one,  and  sometimes  only 
to  bear  them  in  mind,  or  embrace  them  in  the  aggregate, 
1 thought  that,  in  order  the  better  to  consider  them  indi- 
vidually, I should  view  them  as  subsisting  between 
straight  lines,  than  which  I could  find  no  objects  more 
simple,  or  capable  of  being  more  distinctly  represented 
to  my  imagination  and  senses;  and  on  the  other  hand, 
that  in  order  to  retain  them  in  the  memory,  or  embrace 
an  aggregate  of  many,  I should  express  them  by  certain 
characters  the  briefest  possible.  In  this  way  I believed 
that  I could  borrow  all  that  was  best  both  in  Geometrical 
Analysis  and  in  Algebra,  and  correct  all  the  defects  of 
the  one  by  help  of  the  other. 

And,  in  point  of  fact,  the  accurate  observance  of  these 
few  precepts  gave  me,  I take  the  liberty  of  saying,  such 
ease  in  unraveling  all  the  questions  embraced  in  these 
two  sciences,  that  in  the  two  or  three  months  I devoted 
to  their  examination,  not  only  did  I reach  solutions  of 
questions  I had  formerly  deemed  exceedingly  difficult, 
but  even  as  regards  questions  of  the  solution  of  which  I 
continued  ignorant,  I was  enabled,  as  it  appeared  to  me, 
to  determine  the  means  whereby,  and  the  extent  to 


ON  METHOD 


163 

which,  a solution  was  possible ; results  attributable  to 
the  circumstance  that  I commenced  with  the  simplest 
and  most  general  truths,  and  that  thus  each  truth  dis- 
covered was  a rule  available  in  the  discovery  of  subse- 
quent ones.  Nor  in  this  perhaps  shall  I appear  too  vain, 
if  it  be  considered  that,  as  the  truth  on  any  particular  -j 
point  is  one,  whoever  apprehends  the  truth,  knows  all 
that  on  that  point  can  be  known.  The  child,  for  exam- 
ple, who  has  been  instructed  in  the  elements  of  Arith- 
metic, and  has  made  a particular  addition,  according  to 
rule,  may  be  assured  that  he  has  found,  with  respect 
to  the  sum  of  the  numbers  before  him,  all  that  in  this 
instance  is  within  the  reach  of  human  genius.  Now,  in 
conclusion,  the  Method  which  teaches  adherence  to  the 
true  order,  and  an  exact  enumeration  of  all  the  condi- 
tions of  the  thing  sought  includes  all  that  gives  certitude 
to  the  rules  of  Arithmetic. 

But  the  chief  ground  of  my  satisfaction  with  this 
Method  was  the  assurance  I had  of  thereby  exercising 
my  reason  in  all  matters,  if  not  with  absolute  perfec- 
tion, at  least  with  the  greatest  attainable  by  me : besides, 

I was  conscious  that  by  its  use  my  mind  was  becoming 
gradually  habituated  to  clearer  and  more  distinct  concep- 
tions of  its  objects;  and  I hoped  also,  from  not  having 
restricted  this  Method  to  any  particular  matter,  to  apply 
it  to  the  difficulties  of  the  other  Sciences,  with  not  less 
success  than  to  those  of  Algebra.  I should  not,  however, 
on  this  account  have  ventured  at  once  on  the  examina- 
tion of  all  the  difficulties  of  the  Sciences  which  presented 
themselves  to  me,  for  this  would  have  been  contrary  to 
the  order  prescribed  in  the  Method,  but  observing  that 
the  knowledge  of  such  is  dependent  on  principles  bor- 
rowed from  Philosophy,  in  which  I found  nothing  cer- 
tain, I thought  it  necessary,  first  of  all  to  endeavor  to 
establish  its  principles.  And  because  I observed,  besides, 
that  an  inquiry  of  this  kind  was  of  all  others  of  the 
greatest  moment,  and  one  in  which  precipitancy  and 
anticipation  in  judgment  were  most  to  be  dreaded,  I 
thought  that  I ought  not  to  approach  it  till  I had 
reached  a more  mature  age  ( being  at  that  time  but 
twenty-three),  and  had  first  of  all  employed  much  of 
my  time  in  preparation  for  the  work,  as  well  by  eradi- 
cating from  my  mind  all  the  erroneous  opinions  I had 


164 


DISCOURSE 


up  to  that  moment  accepted,  as  by  amassing  variety  of 
experience  to  afford  materials  for  my  reasonings,  and  by 
continually  exercising  myself  in  my  chosen  Method  with 
a view  to  increased  skill  in  its  application. 


PART  III. 

> 

And,  finally,  as  it  is  not  enough,  before  commencing 
to  rebuild  the  house  in  which  we  live,  that  it  be  pulled 
down,  and  materials  and  builders  provided,  or  that  we 
engage  in  the  work  ourselves,  according  to  a plan  which 
we  have  beforehand  carefully  drawn  out,  but  as  it  is 
likewise  necessary  that  we  be  furnished  with  some  other 
house  in  which  we  may  live  commodiously  during  the 
operations,  so  that  I might  not  remain  irresolute  in  my 
actions,  while  my  Reason  compelled  me  to  suspend  my 
judgment,  and  that  I might  not  be  prevented  from  liv- 
ing thenceforward  in  the  greatest  possible  felicity,  I 
formed  a provisory  code  of  Morals,  composed  of  three  or 
four  maxims,  with  which  I am  desirous  to  make  you 
acquainted. 

The  first  was  to  obey  the  laws  and  customs  of  my 
country,  adhering  firmly  to  the  Faith  in  which,  by  the 
grace  of  God,  I had  been  educated  from  my  childhood, 
and  regulating  my  conduct  in  every  other  matter  accord- 
ing to  the  most  moderate  opinions,  and  the  farthest  re- 
moved from  extremes,  which  should  happen  to  be 
adopted  in  practice  with  general  consent  of  the  most 
judicious  of  those  among  whom  I might  be  living.  For, 
as  I had  from  that  time  begun  to  hold  my  own  opinions 
for  nought  because  I wished  to  subject  them  all  to  ex- 
amination, I was  convinced  that  I could  not  do  better 
than  follow  in  the  meantime  the  opinions  of  the  most 
judicious;  and  although  there  are  some  perhaps  among 
the  Persians  and  Chinese  as  judicious  as  among  ourselves, 
expediency  seemed  to  dictate  that  I should  regulate  my 
practice  conformably  to  the  opinions  of  those  with  whom 
I should  have  to  live;  and  it  appeared  to  me  that,  in 
order  to  ascertain  the  real  opinions  of  such,  I ought 
rather  to  take  cognizance  of  what  they  practiced  than  of 
what  they  said,  not  only  because,  in  the  corruption  of 


ON  METHOD 


165 

our  manners,  there  are  few  disposed  to  speak  exactly  as 
they  believe,  but  also  because  very  many  are  not  aware 
of  what  it  is  that  they  really  believe;  for,  as  the  act  of 
mind  by  which  a thing  is  believed  is  different  from  that 
by  which  we  know  that  we  believe  it,  the  one  act  is 
often  found  without  the  other.  Also,  amid  many  opinions 
held  in  equal  repute,  I choose  always  the  most  moderate, 
as  much  for  the  reason  that  these  are  always  the  most 
convenient  for  practice,  and  probably  the  best  (for  all 
excess  is  generally  vicious),  as  that,  in  the  event  of  my 
falling  into  error,  I might  be  at  less  distance  from  the 
truth  than  if,  having  chosen  one  of  the  extremes,  it 
should  turn  out  to  be  the  other  which  I ought  to  have 
adopted.  And  I placed  in  the  class  of  extremes  espe- 
cially all  promises  by  which  somewhat  of  our  freedom  is 
abridged;  not  that  I disapproved  of  the  laws  which,  to 
provide  against  the  instability  of  men  of  feeble  resolu- 
tion, when  what  is  sought  to  be  accomplished  is  some 
good,  permit  engagements  by  vows  and  contracts  bind- 
ing the  parties  to  persevere  in  it,  or  even,  for  the  security 
of  commerce,  sanction  similar  engagements  where  the 
purpose  sought  to  be  realized  is  indifferent : but  because  I 
did  not  find  anything  on  earth  which  was  wholly  superior 
to  change,  and  because,  for  myself  in  particular,  I hoped 
gradually  to  perfect  my  judgments,  and  not  to  suffer 
them  to  deteriorate,  I would  have  deemed  it  a grave  sin 
against  good  sense,  if,  for  the  reason  that  I approved  of 
something  at  a particular  time,  I therefore  bound  myself 
to  hold  it  for  good  at  a subsequent  time,  when  perhaps 
it  had  ceased  to  be  so,  or  I had  ceased  to  esteem  it 
such. 

My  second  maxim  was  to  be  as  firm  and  resolute  in 
my  actions  as  I was  able,  and  not  to  adhere  less  stead- 
fastly to  the  most  doubtful  opinions,  when  once  adopted, 
than  if  they  had  been  highly  certain ; imitating  in  this  the 
example  of  travelers  who,  when  they  have  lost  their  way 
in  a forest,  ought  not  to  wander  from  side  to  side,  far 
less  remain  in  one  place,  but  proceed  constantly  toward 
the  same  side  in  as  straight  a line  as  possible,  without 
changing  their  direction  for  slight  reasons,  although  per- 
haps it  might  be  chance  alone  which  at  first  determined 
the  selection;  for  in  this  way,  if  they  do  not  exactly 
reach  the  point  they  desire,  they  will  come  at  least  in  the 


166 


DISCOURSE 


end  to  some  place  that  will  probably  be  preferable  to  the 
middle  of  a forest.  In  the  same  way,  since  in  action  it 
frequently  happens  that  no  delay  is  permissible,  it  is  very 
certain  that,  when  it  is  not  in  our  power  to  determine 
what  is  true,  we  ought  to  act  according  to  what  is  most 
probable;  and  even  although  we  should  not  remark  a 
greater  probability  in  one  opinion  than  in  another,  we 
ought  notwithstanding  to  choose  one  or  the  other,  and 
afterward  consider  it,  in  so  far  as  it  relates  to  practice, 
as  no  longer  dubious,  but  manifestly  true  and  certain, 
since  the  reason  by  which  our  choice  has  been  deter- 
mined is  itself  possessed  of  these  qualities.  This  prin- 
ciple was  sufficient  thenceforward  to  rid  me  of  all  those 
repentings  and  pangs  of  remorse  that  usually  disturb  the 
consciences  of  such  feeble  and  uncertain  minds  as,  desti- 
tute of  any  clear  and  determinate  principle  of  choice, 
allow  themselves  one  day  to  adopt  a course  of  action  as 
the  best,  which  they  abandon  the  next,  as  the  opposite. 

My  third  maxim  was  to  endeavor  always  to  conquer 
myself  rather  than  fortune,  and  change  my  desires  rather 
than  the  order  of  the  world,  and  in  general,  accustom 
myself  to  the  persuasion  that,  except  our  own  thoughts, 
there  is  nothing  absolutely  in  our  power;  so  that  when 
we  have  done  our  best  in  respect  of  things  external  to 
us,  all  wherein  we  fail  of  success  is  to  be  held,  as  re- 
gards us,  absolutely  impossible:  and  this  single  principle 
seemed  to  me  sufficient  to  prevent  me  from  desiring  for 
the  future  anything  which  I could  not  obtain,  and  thus 
render  me  contented;  for  since  our  will  naturally  seeks 
those  objects  alone  which  the  understanding  represents 
as  in  some  way  possible  of  attainment,  it  is  plain,  that 
if  we  consider  all  external  goods  as  equally  beyond  our 
power,  we  shall  no  more  regret  the  absence  of  such 
goods  as  seem  due  to  our  birth,  when  deprived  of  them 
without  any  fault  of  ours,  than  our  not  possessing  the 
kingdoms  of  China  or  Mexico;  and  thus  making,  so  to 
> speak,  a virtue  of  necessity,  we  shall  no  more  desire 
health  in  disease,  or  freedom  in  imprisonment,  than  we 
now  do  bodies  incorruptible  as  diamonds,  or  the  wings 
of  birds  to  fly  with.  But  I confess  there  is  need  of  pro- 
longed discipline  and  frequently  repeated  meditation  to 
accustom  the  mind  to  view  all  objects  in  this  light;  and 
I believe  that  in  this  chiefly  consisted  the  secret  of  the 


ON  METHOD 


167 


power  of  such  philosophers  as  in  former  times  were  en- 
abled to  rise  superior  to  the  influence  of  fortune,  and,  amid 
suffering  and  poverty,  enjoy  a happiness  which  their  gods 
might  have  envied.  For,  occupied  incessantly  with  the 
consideration  of  the  limits  prescribed  to  their  power  by 
nature,  they  became  so  entirely  convinced  that  nothing 
was  at  their  disposal  except  their  own  thoughts,  that  this 
conviction  was  of  itself  sufficient  to  prevent  their  enter- 
taining any  desire  of  other  objects;  and  over  their 
thoughts  they  acquired  a sway  so  absolute,  that  they  had 
some  ground  on  this  account  for  esteeming  themselves 
more  rich  and  more  powerful,  more  free  and  more  happy, 
than  other  men  who,  whatever  be  the  favors  heaped  on 
them  by  nature  and  fortune,  if  destitute  of  this  philoso- 
phy, can  never  command  the  realization  of  all  their 
desires. 

In  fine,  to  conclude  this  code  of  Morals,  I thought  of 
reviewing  the  different  occupations  of  men  in  this  life, 
with  the  view  of  making  choice  of  the  best.  And,  with- 
out wishing  to  offer  any  remarks  on  the  employments  of 
others,  I may  state  that  it  was  my  conviction  that  I could 
not  do  better  than  continue  in  that  in  which  I was  en- 
gaged, viz,  in  devoting  my  whole  life  to  the  culture  of 
my  Reason,  and  in  making  the  greatest  progress  I was 
able  in  the  knowledge  of  truth,  on  the  principles  of  the 
Method  which  I had  prescribed  to  myself.  This  Method, 
'from* the  time  I had  begun  to  apply  it,  had  been  to  me 
the  source  of  satisfaction  so  intense  as  to  lead  me  to  be- 
lieve that  more  perfect  or  more  innocent  could  not  be 
enjoyed  in  this  life;  and  as  by  its  means  I daily  dis- 
covered truths  that  appeared  to  me  of  some  importance, 
and  of  which  other  men  were  generally  ignorant,  the 
gratification  thence  arising  so  occupied  my  mind  that  I 
was  wholly  indifferent  to  every  other  object.  Besides, 
the  three  preceding  maxims  were  founded  singly  on  the 
design  of  continuing  the  work  of  self-instruction.  For 
since  God_  has  endowed  each  of  us  with  some  Light  of 
Reason  by  which  to  distinguish  truth  from  error,  I could 
not  have  believed  that  I ought  for  a single  moment  to 
rest  satisfied  with  the  opinions  of  another,  unless  I had 
resolved  to  exercise  my  own  judgment  in  examining 
these  whenever  I should  be  duly  qualified  for  the  task. 
Nor  could  I have  proceeded  on  such  opinions  without 


t68 


DISCOURSE 


scruple,  had  I supposed  that  I should  thereby  forfeit  any 
advantage  for  attaining  still  more  accurate,  should  such 
exist.  And,  in  fine,  I could  not  have  restrained  my  de- 
sires, nor  remained  satisfied,  had  I not  followed  a path 
in  which  I thought  myself  certain  of  attaining  all  the 
knowledge  to  the  acquisition  of  which  I was  competent, 
as  well  as  the  largest  amount  of  what  is  truly  good  which 
I could  ever  hope  to  secure.  Inasmuch  as  we  neither 
seek  nor  shun  any  object  except  in  so  far  as  our  under- 
standing represents  it  as  good  or  bad,  all  that  is  neces- 
sary to  right  action  is  right  judgment,  and  to  the  best 
action  the  most  correct  judgment,  that  is,  to  the  acqui- 
sition of  all  the  virtues  with  all  else  that  is  truly  valua- 
ble and  within  our  reach;  and  the  assurance  of  such  an 
acquisition  cannot  fail  to  render  us  contented. 

Having  thus  provided  myself  with  these  maxims,  and 
having  placed  them  in  reserve  along  with  the  truths  of 
Faith,  which  have  ever  occupied  the  first  place  in  my 
belief,  I came  to  the  conclusion  that  I might  with  free- 
dom set  about  ridding  myself  of  what  remained  of  my 
opinions.  And,  inasmuch  as  I hoped  to  be  better  able 
successfully  to  accomplish  this  work  by  holding  intercourse 
with  mankind,  than  by  remaining  longer  shut  up  in  the 
retirement  where  these  thoughts  had  occurred  to  me,  I 
betook  me  again  to  traveling  before  the  winter  was  well 
ended.  And,  during  the  nine  subsequent  years,  I did 
nothing  but  roam  from  one  place  to  another,  desirous  of 
being  a spectator  rather  than  an  actor  in  the  plays  ex- 
hibited on  the  theater  of  the  world;  and,  as  I made  it 
my  business  in  each  matter  to  reflect  particularly  upon 
what  might  fairly  be  doubted  and  prove  a source  of 
error,  I gradually  rooted  out  from  my  mind  all  the  errors 
which  had  hitherto  crept  into  it.  Not  that  in  this  I im- 
itated the  Sceptics  who  doubt  only  that  they  may  doubt, 
and  seek  nothing  beyond  uncertainty  itself;  for,  on  the 
contrary,  my  design  was  singly  to  find  ground  of  assur- 
ance, and  cast  aside  the  loose  earth  and  sand,  that  I 
might  reach  the  rock  or  the  clay.  In  this,  as  appears  to 
me,  I was  successful  enough;  for,  since  I endeavored  to 
discover  the  falsehood  or  incertitude  of  the  proposi- 
tions I examined,  not  by  feeble  conjectures,  but  by  clear 
and  certain  reasonings,  I met  with  nothing  so  doubtful 
as  not  to  yield  some  conclusion  of  adequate  certainty, 


ON  METHOD 


169 

although  this  were  merely  the  inference,  that  the  matter 
in  question  contained  nothing  certain.  And,  just  as  in 
pulling  down  an  old  house,  we  usually  reserve  the  ruins 
to  contribute  toward  the  erection,  so,  in  destroying  such 
of  my  opinions  as  I judged  to  be  ill-founded,  I made  a 
variety  of  observations  and  acquired  an  amount  of  ex- 
perience of  which  I availed  myself  in  the  establishment 
of  more  certain.  And  further,  I continued  to  exercise 
myself  in  the  Method  I had  prescribed;  for,  besides  tak- 
ing care  in  general  to  conduct  all  my  thoughts  accord- 
ing to  its  rules,  I reserved  some  hours  from  time  to  time 
which  I expressly  devoted  to  the  employment  of  the 
Method  in  the  solution  of  Mathematical  difficulties,  or  even 
in  the  solution  likewise  of  some  questions  belonging  to 
other  Sciences,  but  which,  by  my  having  detached  them 
from  such  principles  of  these  Sciences  as  were  of  inade- 
quate certainty,  were  rendered  almost  Mathematical:  the 
truth  of  this  will  be  manifest  from  the  numerous  exam- 
ples contained  in  this  volume.  * And  thus,  without  in 
appearance  living  otherwise  than  those  who,  with  no  other 
occupation  than  that  of  spending  their  lives  agreeably 
and  innocently,  study  to  sever  pleasure  from  vice,  and 
who,  that  they  may  enjoy  their  leisure  without  ennui, 
have  recourse  to  such  pursuits  as  are  honorable,  I was 
nevertheless  prosecuting  my  design,  and  making  greater 
progress  in  the  knowledge  of  truth,  than  I might, 
perhaps,  have  made  had  I been  engaged  in  the  perusal 
of  books  merely,  or  in  holding  converse  with  men  of 
letters. 

These  nine  years  passed  away,  however,  before  I had 
come  to  any  determinate  judgment  respecting  the  diffi- 
culties which  form  matter  of  dispute  among  the  learned, 
or  had  commenced  to  seek  the  principles  of  any  Philoso- 
phy more  certain  than  the  vulgar.  And  the  examples 
of  many  men  of  the  highest  genius,  who  had,  in  former 
times,  engaged  in  this  inquiry,  but,  as  appeared  to  me, 
without  success,  led  me  to  imagine  it  to  be  a work  of 
so  much  difficulty,  that  I would  not  perhaps  have  ven- 
tured on  it  so  soon  had  I not  heard  it  currently  rumored 
that  I had  already  completed  the  inquiry.  I know  not 

* The  Discourse  on  Method  was  originally  published  along  with  the 
(<  Dioptrics, » the  (<  Meteorics,®  and  the  « Geometry. » See  the  <(  Intro- 
duction.® 


170 


DISCOURSE 


what  were  the  grounds  of  this  opinion;  and,  if  my  con- 
versation contributed  in  any  measure  to  its  rise,  this 
must  have  happened  rather  from  my  having  confessed 
my  ignorance  with  greater  freedom  than  those  are  ac- 
customed to  do  who  have  studied  a little,  and  expounded, 
perhaps,  the  reasons  that  led  me  to  doubt  of  many  of 
those  things  that  by  others  are  esteemed  certain,  than 
from  my  having  boasted  of  any  system  of  Philosophy. 
But,  as  I am  of  a disposition  that  makes  me  unwilling 
to  be  esteemed  different  from  what  I really  am,  I thought 
it  necessary  to  endeavor  by  all  means  to  render  myself 
worthy  of  the  reputation  accorded  to  me;  and  it  is  now 
exactly  eight  years  since  this  desire  constrained  me  to 
remove  from  all  those  places  where  interruption  from 
any  of  my  acquaintances  was  possible,  and  betake  my- 
self to  this  country,*  in  which  the  long  duration  of  the 
war  has  led  to  the  establishment  of  such  discipline,  that 
the  armies  maintained  seem  to  be  of  use  only  in  en- 
abling the  inhabitants  to  enjoy  more  securely  the  bless- 
ings of  peace;  and  where  in  the  midst  of  a great  crowd 
actively  engaged  in  business,  and  more  careful  of  their 
own  affairs  than  curious  about  those  of  others,  I have 
been  enabled  to  live  without  being  deprived  of  any  of 
the  conveniences  to  be  had  in  the  most  populous  cities, 
and  yet  as  solitary  and  as  retired  as  in  the  midst  of  the 
most  remote  deserts. 


PART  IV. 

I am  in  doubt  as  to  the  propriety  of  making  my  first 
meditations,  in  the  place  above  mentioned,  matter  of  dis- 
course; for  chese  are  so  metaphysical,  and  so  uncom- 
mon, as  not,  perhaps,  to  be  acceptable  to  everyone. 
And  yet,  that  it  may  be  determined  whether  the  foun- 
dations that  I have  laid  are  sufficiently  secure,  I find 
myself  in  a measure  constrained  to  advert  to  them.  I 
had  long  before  remarked  that,  in  relation  to  practice, 
it  is  sometimes  necessary  to  adopt,  as  if  above  doubt, 
opinions  which  we  discern  to  be  highly  uncertain,  as 
has  been  already  said;  but  as  I then  desired  to  give  my 
attention  solely  to  the  search  after  truth,  I thought  that 
* Holland;  to  which  country  he  withdrew  in  1629.  — Tr. 


ON  METHOD 


171 


a procedure  exactly  the  opposite  was  called  for,  and 
that  I ought  to  reject  as  absolutely  false  all  opinions  in 
regard  to  which  I could  suppose  the  least  ground  for 
doubt,  in  order  to  ascertain  whether  after  that  there  re- 
mained aught  in  my  belief  that  was  wholly  indubitable. 
Accordingly,  seeing  that  our  senses  sometimes  deceive 
us,  I was  willing  to  suppose  that  there  existed  nothing 
really  such  as  they  presented  to  us;  and  because  some 
men  err  in  reasoning,  and  fall  into  paralogisms,  even  on 
the  simplest  matters  of  Geometry,  I,  convinced  that  I 
was  as  open  to  error  as  any  other,  rejected  as  false  all 
the  reasonings  I had  hitherto  taken  for  demonstrations; 
and  finally,  when  I considered  that  the  very  same 
thoughts  (presentations)  which  we  experience  when  awake 
may  also  be  experienced  when  we  are  asleep,  while  there 
is  at  that  time  not  one  of  them  true,  I supnose.d_that._all 
the  objects  (presentations)  that  had  ever  entered  into 
my  mind  when  awake^  had  in  them  no  more  truth  than 
the  illusions  of  my  dreams.  But  immediately  upon  this 
I observed  that,  whilst  I thus  wished  to  think  that  all 
was  false,  it  was  absolutely  necessary  that  I,  who  thus 
thought,  should  be  somewhat;  and  as  I observed  that 
this  truth,  I tuixk.  hence  I am,  was  so  certain  and  of 
such  evidence,  that_no  aground  of  doubt,  however  ex- 
travagant, could  be  alleged  by  the  Sceptics  capable  of 
shaking  At,  i concluded  that  I might,  without  scruple, 
accept  it  as  the  first  principle  of  the  Philosophy  of  which 
I was  in  search. 

In  the  next  place,  I attentively  examined  what  I was, 

and  as  I observed  that  I could  suppose  that  I had  no 

body,  and  that  there  was  no  world  nor  any  place  in 

which  I might  be;  but  that  I could  not  therefore  suppose 

that  I was  not;  and  that,  on  the  contrary,  from  the  very 

circumstance  that  I thought  to  doubt  of  the  truth  of 

all  things,  it  most  clearly  and  certainly  followed  that 

I was ; ’while,  on . the  other  hand,  if  I had  only  ceased  to 

think,  although  all  the  other  objects  which  I had  ever 

imagined  had  been  in  reality  existent,  I would  have  had 

no  reason  to  believe  that  I existed;  I thence  concluded 

that  I was  a substance  whose  whole  essence  or  nature 

^ - , 

g consists  only  in  thinking,  and  which,  that  it  may  ex- 

• ist,  has  need  of  no  place,  nor  is  dependent  on  any  mate- 
rial thing;  s.  that  <(I,  * that  is  to  say,  the  mind  by 


U' 


ss  _> 

v» 

s5  > 

cv  v3 


7 

V 


VJ 

> 


172 


DISCOURSE 

fcisd 

which  I am  what  I am,  is  wholly  distinct  from  the  body, 
and  is  even  more  , easily  known  than  the  latter,  and  is 
such,  that  although  the  latter  were  not,  it  would  still 
continue  to  be  all  that  it  is. 

After  this  I inquired  in  general  into  what  is  essential 
to  the  truth  and  certainty  of  a proposition;  for  since  I 
had  discovered  one  which  I knew  to  be  true,  I thought 
that  I must  likewise  be  able  to  discover  the  ground  of  this 
certitude.  And  as  I observed  that  in  the  words  I think, 
hence  I am,  there  is  nothin^  at  all  which  gives  me  assur- 
ance of  their  truth  beyond  this,  that  I see  very  clearly 
that  in  order  to  think  it  is  necessary  to  exist,  I con- 
cluded that  I might  take,  as  *a  general  rule,  the  principle, 
that  all  the.  things  which  we  very  ..clearly  and  distinctly 
conceive  are  true,  only  observing,  however,  that  there  is 
some  difficulty  in  rightly  determining  the  objects  which 
we  distinctly  conceive. 

In  the  next  place,  from  reflecting  on  the  circumstance 
that  I doubted,  and  that  consequently  my  being  was  not 
wholly  perfect  (for  I clearly  saw  that  it  was  a greater 
perfection  to  know  than  to  doubt),  I was  led  to  inquire 
whence  I had  learned  to  think  of  something  more  per- 
fect than  myself;  and  I clearly  recognized  that  I must 
hold  this  notion  from  some  Nature  which  in  reality  was 
more  perfect.  As  for  the  thoughts  of  many  other  objects 
external  to  me,  as  of  the  sky,  the  earth,  light,  heat,  and  a 
thousand  more,  I was  less  at  a loss  to  know  whence 
these  came ; for  since  I remarked  in  them  nothing  which 
seemed  to  render  them  superior  to  myself,  I could 
believe  that,  if  these  were  true,  they  were  dependen- 
cies on  my  own  nature,  in  so  far  as  it  possessed  a certain 
perfection,  and,  if  they  were  false,  that  I held  them  from 
nothing,  that  is  to  say,  that  they  were  in  me  because  of  a 
certain  imperfection  of  my  nature.  But  this  could  not  be 
the  case  with  the  idea  of  a Nature  more  perfect  than  my- 
self ; for  to  receive  it  from  nothing  was  a thing  manifestly 
impossible;  and,  because  it  is  not  less  repugnant  that 
the  more  perfect  should  be  an  effect  of,  and  dependence 
on  the  less  perfect,  than  that  something  should  proceed 
from  nothing,  it  was  equally  impossible  that  I could  hold 
it  from  myself:  accordingly,  it  but  remained  that  it  had 
been  placed  in  me  by  a Nature  whicl.  was  in  reality 
more  perfect  than  mine,  and  which  even  possessed  within 


ON  METHOD 


173 


itself  all  the  perfections  of  which  I could  form  any  idea: 
that  is  to  say,  in  a single  word,  which  was  God.  And 
to  this  I added  that,  since  I knew  some  perfections  which 
I did  not  possess,  I was  not  the  only  being  in  existence, 
(I  will  here,  with  your  permission,  freely  use  the  terms 
of  the  Schools) ; but  on  the  contrary,  that  there  was  of 
necessity^  some  other  more  perfect  Being  upon  whom  I 
was  dependent,  and  from  whom  I had  received  all  that 
I possessed ; ^or  if  I had  existed  alone,  and  independ- 
ently of  evdry  other  being,  so  as  to  have  had  from  myself 
all  the  perfection,  however  little,  which  I actually  pos- 
sessed, I should  have  been  able,  for  the  same  reason,  to 
have  had  from  myself  the  whole  remainder  of  perfection, 
of  the  want  of  which  I was  conscious,  and  thus  could  of 
myself  have  become  infinite,  eternal,  immutable,  omni- 
scient, all-powerful,  and,  in  fine,  have  possessed  all  the 
perfections  which  I could  recognize  in  God.  For  in  order 
to  know  the  nature  of  God  (whose  existence  has  been 
established  by  the  preceding  reasonings),  as  far  as  my 
own  nature  permitted,  I had  only  to  consider  in  refer- 
ence to  all  the  properties  of  which  I found  in  my  mind 
some  idea,  whether  their  possession  was  a mark  of  per- 
fection; and  I was  assured  that  no  one  which  indicated 
any  imperfection  was  in  him,  and  that  none  of  the  rest 
was  awanting.  Thus  I perceived  that  doubt,  inconstancy, 
sadness,  and  such  like,  could  not  be  found  in  God,  since 
I myself  would  have  been  happy  to  be  free  from  them. 
Besides,  I had  ideas  of  many  sensible  and  corporeal 
things;  for  although  I might  suppose  that  I was  dream- 
ing, and  that  all  which  I saw  or  imagined  was  false,  I could 
not,  nevertheless,  ^Teny  that  the  ideas  were  in  reality  in 
my  thoughts.  But  because  I had  already  very  clearly 
recognized  in  myself  that  the  intelligent  nature  is  dis- 
tinct from  the  corporeal,  and  as  I observed  that  all  com- 
position is  an  evidence  of  dependency,  and  that  a state 
of  dependency  is  manifestly  a state  of  imperfection,  I 
therefore  determined  that  it  could  not  be  a perfection  in 
God  to  be  compounded  of  these  two  natures,  and  that 
consequently  he  was  not  so  compounded;  but  that  if 
there  were  any  bodies  in  the  world,  or  even  any  intelli- 
gences, or  other  natures  that  were  not  wholly  perfect, 
their  existence  depended  on  his  power  in  such  a way  that 
they  could  not  subsist  without  him  for  a single  moment. 


174 


DISCOURSE 


I was  disposed  straightway  to  search  for  other  truths; 
and  when  I had  represented  to  myself  the  object  of  the 
geometers,  which  I conceived  to  be  a continuous  body, 
or  a space  indefinitely  extended  in  length,  breadth,  and 
height  or  depth,  divisible  into  divers  parts  which  admit 
of  different  figures  and  sizes,  and  of  being  moved  or 
transposed  in  all  manner  of  ways  ( for  all  this  the  geom- 
eters suppose  to  be  in  the  object  they  contemplate),  I went 
over  some  of  their  simplest  demonstrations.  And,  in  the 
first  place,  I observed,  that  the  great  certitude  which  by 
common  consent  is  accorded  to  these  demonstrations,  is 
founded  solely  upon  this,  that  they  are  clearly  conceived 
in  accordance  with  the  rules  I have  already  laid  down. 
In  the  next  place,  I perceived  that  there  was  nothing  at 
all  in  these  demonstrations  which  could  assure  me  of  the 
existence  of  their  object;  thus,  for  example,  supposing  a 
triangle  to  be  given,  I distinctly  perceived  that  its  three 
angles  were  necessarily  equal  to  two  right  angles,  but  I 
did  not  on  that  account  perceive  anything  which  could 
assure  me  that  any  triangle  existed;  while,  on  the  con- 
trary, recurring  to  the  examination  of  the  idea  of  a Per- 
fect Being,  I found  that  the  existence  of  the  Being  was 
comprised  in  the  idea  in  the  same  way  that  the  equality 
of  its  three  angles  to  two  right  angles  is  comprised  in 
the  idea  of  a triangle,  or  as  in  the  idea  of  a sphere,  the 
equidistance  of  all  points  on  its  surface  from  the  center, 
or  even  still  more  clearly;  and  that  consequently  it  is  at 
least  as  certain  that  God,  who  is  this  Perfect  Being,  is, 
or  exists,  as  any  demonstration  of  Geometry  can  be. 

But  the  reason  which  leads  many  to  persuade  them- 
selves that  there  is  a difficulty  in  knowing  this  truth, 
and  even  also  in  knowing  what  their  mind  really  is,  is 
that  they  never  raise  their  thoughts  above  sensible  objects, 
and  are  so  accustomed  to  consider  nothing  except  by  way 
of  imagination,  which  is  a mode  of  thinking  limited  to 
material  objects,  that  all  that  is  not  imaginable  seems  to 
them  not  intelligible.  The  truth  of  this  is  suffic. yntly 
manifest  from  the  single  circumstance,  that  the  philoso- 
phers of  the  Schools  accept  as  a maxim  that  there  is 
nothing  in  the  Understanding  which  was  not  previously 
in  the  Senses,  in  which  however  it  is  certain  that  the 
ideas  of  God  and  of  the  soul  have  never  been;  and  it 
appears  to  me  that  they  who  make  use  of  their  imagina- 


ON  METHOD 


175 


tion  to  comprehend  these  ideas  do  exactly  the  same  thing 
as  if,  in  order  to  hear  sounds  or  smell  odors,  they  strove 
to  avail  themselves  of  their  eyes ; unless  indeed  that  there 
is  this  difference,  that  the  sense  of  sight  does  not  afford 
us  an  inferior  assurance  to  those  of  smell  or  hearing;  in 
place  of  which,  neither  our  imagination  nor  our  senses 
can  give  us  assurance  of  anything  unless  our  Understand- 
ing intervene. 

Finally,  if  there  be  still  persons  who  are  not  suffi- 
ciently persuaded  of  the  existence  of  God  and  of  the  soul, 
by  the  reasons  I have  adduced,  I am  desirous  that  they 
should  know  that  all  the  other  propositions,  of  the  truth 
of  which  they  deem  themselves  perhaps  more  assured,  as 
that  we  have  a body,  and  that  there  exist  stars  and  an 
earth,  and  such  like,  are  less  certain;  for,  although  we 
have  a moral  assurance  of  these  thing,  which  is  so  strong 
that  there  is  an  appearance  of  extravagance  in  doubting 
of  their  existence,  yet  at  the  same  time  no  one,  unless 
his  intellect  is  impaired,  can  deny,  when  the  question 
relates  to  a metaphysical  certitude,  that  there  is  sufficient 
reason  to  exclude  entire  assurance,  in  the  observation 


that  when  asleep  we  can  in  the  same  way  imagine  our- 
selves possessed  of  another  body  and  that  we  see  other 
stars  and  another  earth,  when  there  is  nothing  of  the  kind. 
For  how  do  we  know  that  the  thoughts  which  occur  ..in 
dreaming  are  false  rather  than  those  other  which  we  ex- 
perience when  awake,  since  the  former  are  often  not  less 
vivid  and  distinct  than  the  latter  ? And  though  men  of 
the  highest  genius  study  this  question  as  long  as  they 
please,  I do  not  believe  that  they  will  be  able  to  give  any 
reason  which  can  be  sufficient  to  remove  this  doubt,  un- 
less they  presuppose  the  existence  of  God.  For,  in  the 
first  place,  even  the  principle  which  I have  already  taken 
as  a rule,  viz.,  that  all  the  things  which  we  clearly  and 
distinctly  conceive  are  true,  is  certain  only  because  God 
is  or  exists,  and  because  he  is  a Perfect  Being,  and  be- 
cause all  that  we  possess  is  derived  from  him : whence  it 
follows  that'  our  ideas  or  notions,  which  to  the  extent  of 
their  clearness  and  distinctness  are  real,  and  proceed  from 
God,  must  to  that  extent  ke  true.  Accordingly,  whereas 
we  not  unfrequently  have  ideas  or  notions  in  which  some 
falsity  is  contained,  this  can  only  be  the  case  with  such 
as  are  to  some  extent  confused  and  obscure,  and  in  this 


176 


DISCOURSE 


proceed  from  nothing,  (participate  of  negation),  that  is, 
exist  in  us  thus  confused  because  we  are  not  wholly  per- 
fect. And  it  is  evident  that  it  is  not  less  repugnant  that 
falsity  or  imperfection,  in  so  far  as  it  is  imperfection, 
should  proceed  from  God,  than  that  truth  or  perfection 
should  proceed  from  nothing.  But  if  we  did  not  know 
that  all  which  we  possess  of  real  and  true  proceeds  from 
a Perfect  and  Infinite  Being,  however  clear  and  distinct 
our  ideas  might  be,  we  should  have  no  ground  on  that 
account  for  the  assurance  that  they  possessed  the  perfec- 
tion of  being  true. 

But  after  the  knowledge  of  God  and  of  the  soul  has 
rendered  us  certain  of  this  rule,  we  can  easily  under- 
stand that  the  truth  of  the  thoughts  we  experience  when 
awake,  ought  not  in  the  slightest  degree  to  be  called  in 
question  on  account  of  the  illusions  of  our  dreams.  For 
if  it  happened  that  an  individual,  even  when  asleep,  had 
some  very  distinct  idea,  as,  for  example^ if  a.  geometer 
should  discover  some  new  demonstration,  the  circumstance 
of  his  being  asleep  would  not  militate  against  its  truth; 
and  as  for  the  most  ordinary  error  of  our  dreams,  which 
consists  in  their  representing  to  us  various  objects  in  the 
same  way  as  our  external  senses,  this  is  not  prejudicial, 
since  it  leads  us  very  properly  to  suspect  the  truth  of 
the  ideas  of  sense ; for  we  are  not  unfrequently  deceived 
in  the  same  manner  when  awake ; as  when  persons  in  the 
jaundice  see  all  objects  yellow,  or  when  the  stars  or 
bodies  at  a great  distance  appear  to  us  much  smaller 
than  they  are.  For,  in  fine,  whether  awake  or  asleep, 
we  ought  never  to  allow  ourselves  to  be  persuaded  of 
the  truth  of  anything  unless  on  the  evidence  of  our 
Reason.  And  it  must  be  noted  that  I say  of  our  Reason, 
and  not  of  our  imagination  or  of  our  senses:  thus,  for 
example,  although  we  very  clearly  see  the  sun,  we  ought 
not  therefore  to  determine  that  it  is  only  of  the  size 
which  our  sense  of  sight  presents ; and  we  may  very  dis- 
tinctly imagine  the  head  of  a lion  joined  to  the  body  of 
a goat,  without  being  therefore  shut  up  to  the  conclusion 
that  a chimera  exists;  for  it  is  not  a dictate  of  Reason 
that  what  we  thus  see  or  imagine  is  in  reality  existent; 
but  it  plainly  tells  us  that  all  our  ideas  or  notions  contain 
in  them  some  truth;  for  otherwise  it  could  not  be  that 
God,  who  is  wholly  perfect  and  veracious,  should  have 


ON  METHOD 


177 


placed  them  in  us.  And  because  our  reasonings  are  never 
sb“  clear~  or  so  complete  during  sleep  as  when  we  are 
awake,  although  sometimes  the  acts  of  our  imagination 
are  then  as  lively  and  distinct,  if  not  more  so  than  in 
our  waking  moments,  Reason  further  dictates  that,  since 
all  our  thoughts  cannot  be  true  because  of  ~ our  partial 
jmperfection,  those  possessing  truth  must  infallibly  be 
found  in  the  experience  of  our  waking  moments  rather 
than  in  that  of  our  dreams. 


PART  V. 

I would  here  willingly  have  proceeded  to  exhibit  the 
whole  chain  of  truths  which  I deduced  from  these  pri- 
mary; but  as  with  a view  to  this  it  would  have  been 
necessary  now  to  treat  of  many  questions  in  dispute 
among  the  learned,  with  whom  I do  not  wish  to  be  em- 
broiled, I believe  that  it  will  be  better  for  me  to  refrain 
from  this  exposition,  and  only  mention  in  general  what 
these  truths  are,  that  the  more  judicious  may  be  able  to 
determine  whether  a more  special  account  of  them  would 
conduce  to  the  public  advantage.  I have  ever  remained 
firm  in  my  original  resolution  to  suppose  no  other  prin- 
ciple than  that  of  which  I have  recently  availed  myself 
in  demonstrating  the  existence  of  God  and  of  the  soul, 
and  to  accept  as  true  nothing  that  did  not  appear  to  me 
more  clear  and  certain  than  the  demonstrations  of  the 
geometers  had  formerly  appeared;  and  yet  I venture  to 
state  that  not  only  have  I found  means  to  satisfy  myself 
in  a short  time  on  all  the  principal  difficulties  which  are 
usually  treated  of  in  Philosophy,  but  I have  also  ob- 
served certain  laws  established  in  nature  by  God  in  such 
a manner,  and  of  which  he  has  impressed  on  our  minds 
such  notions,  that  after  we  have  reflected  sufficiently 
upon  these,  we  cannot  doubt  that  they  are  accurately 
observed  in  all  that  exists  or  takes  place  in  the  world: 
and  farther,  by  considering  the  concatenation  of  these 
laws,  it  appears  to  me  that  I have  discovered  many  truths 
more  useful  and  more  important  than  all  I had  before 
learned,  or  even  had  expected  to  learn. 

But  because  I have  essayed  to  expound  the  chief  of 
these  discoveries  in  a Treatise  which  certain  considera- 


12 


178 


DISCOURSE 


tions  prevent  me  from  publishing,  I cannot  make  the 
results  known  more  conveniently  than  by  here  giving  a 
summary  of  the  contents  of  this  Treatise.  It  was  my 
design  to  comprise  in  it  all  that,  before  I set  myself  to 
write  it,  I thought  I knew  of  the  nature  of  material  ob- 
jects. But  like  the  painters  who,  finding  themselves  un- 
able to  represent  equally  well  on  a plain  surface  all  the 
different  faces  of  a solid  body,  select  one  of  the  chief, 
on  which  alone  they  make  the  light  fall,  and  throwing 
the  rest  into  the  shade,  allow  them  to  appear  only  in  so 
far  as  they  can  be  seen  while  looking  at  the  principal 
one ; so,  fearing  lest  I should  not  be  able  to  comprise  in 
my  discourse  all  that  was  in  my  mind,  I resolved  to 
expound  singly,  though  at  considerable  length,  my  opin- 
ions regarding  light ; then  to  take  the  opportunity  ot 
adding  something  on  the  sun  and  the  fixed  stars,  since 
light  almost  wholly  proceeds  from  them;  on  the  heavens 
since  they  transmit  it ; on  the  planets,  comets,  and  earth, 
since  they  reflect  it;  and  particularly  on  all  the  bodies 
that  are  upon  the  earth,  since  they  are  either  colored, 
or  transparent,  or  luminous;  and  finally  on  man,  since 
he  is  the  spectator  of  these  objects.  Further,  to  enable 
me  to  cast  this  variety  of  subjects  somewhat  into  the 
shade,  and  to  express  my  judgment  regarding  them  with 
greater  freedom,  without  being  necessitated  to  adopt  or 
refute  the  opinions  of  the  learned,  I resolved  to  leave  all 
the  people  here  to  their  disputes,  and  to  speak  only  of 
what  would  happen  in  a new  world,  if  God  were  now  to 
create  somewhere  in  the  imaginary  spaces  matter  suf- 
ficient to  compose  one,  and  were  to  agitate  variously  and 
confusedly  the  different  parts  of  this  matter,  so  that 
there  resulted  a chaos  as  disordered  as  the  poets  ever 
feigned,  and  after  that  did  nothing  more  than  lend  his 
ordinary  concurrence  to  nature,  and  allow  her  to  act  in 
accordance  with  the  laws  which  he  had  established.  On 
this  supposition,  I,  in  the  first  place,  described  this  mat- 
ter, and  essayed  to  represent  it  in  such  a manner  that 
to  my  mind  there  can  be  nothing  clearer  and  more  in- 
telligible, except  what  has  been  recently  said  regarding 
God  and  the  soul;  for  I even  expressly  supposed  that  it 
possessed  none  of  those  forms  or  qualities  which  are  so 
debated  in  the  Schools,  nor  in  general  anything  the 
knowledge  of  which  is  not  so  natural  to  our  minds  that 


ON  METHOD 


179 


no  one  can  so  much  as  imagine  himself  ignorant  of  it. 
Besides,  I have  pointed  out  what  are  the  laws  of  nature ; 
and  with  no  other  principle  upon  which  to  found  my 
reasonings  except  the  infinite  perfection  of  God,  I en- 
deavored to  demonstrate  all  those  about  which  there 
could  be  any  room  for  doubt,  and  to  prove  that  they 
are  such,  that  even  if  God  had  created  more  worlds, 
there  could  have  been  none  in  which  these  laws  were 
not  observed.  Thereafter,  I showed  how  the  great- 
est part  of  the  matter  of  this  chaos  must,  in  ac- 
cordance with  these  laws,  dispose  and  arrange  itself  in 
such  a way  as  to  present  the  appearance  of  heavens; 
how  in  the  meantime  some  of  its  parts  must  compose 
an  earth  and  some  planets  and  comets,  and  others  a 
sun  and  fixed  stars.  And,  making  a digression  at  this 
stage  on  the  subject  of  light,  I expounded  at  consid- 
erable length  what  the  nature  of  that  light  must  be 
which  is  found  in  the  sun  and  the  stars,  and  how  thence 
in  an  instant  of  time  it  traverses  the  immense  spaces  of 
the  heavens,  and  how  from  the  planets  and  comets  it  is 
reflected  toward  the  earth.  To  this  I likewise  added 
much  respecting  the  substance,  the  situation,  the  motions, 
and  all  the  different  qualities  of  these  heavens  and  stars; 
so  that  I thought  I had  said  enough  respecting  them  to 
show  that  there  is  nothing  observable  in  the  heavens  or 
stars  of  our  system  that  must  not,  or  at  least  may  not, 
appear  precisely  alike  in  those  of  the  system  which  I 
described.  I came  next  to  speak  of  the  earth  in  par- 
ticular, and  to  show  how,  even  though  I had  expressly 
supposed  that  God  had  given  no  weight  to  the  matter  of 
which  it  is  composed,  this  should  not  prevent  all  its  parts 
from  tending  exactly  to  its  center;  how  with  water  and 
air  on  its  surface,  the  disposition  of  the  heavens  and 
heavenly  bodies,  more  especially  of  the  moon,  must  cause 
a flow  and  ebb,  like  in  all  its  circumstances  to  that  ob- 
served in  our  seas,  as  also  a certain  current  both  of  water 
and  air  from  east  to  west,  such  as  is  likewise  observed 
between  the  tropics;  how  the  mountains,  seas,  fountains, 
and  rivers  might  naturally  be  formed  in  it,  and  the 
metals  produced  in  the  mines,  and  the  plants  grow  in 
the  fields;  and  in  general,  how  all  the  bodies  which  are 
commonly  denominated  mixed  or  composite  might  be 
generated:  and,  among  other  things  in  the  discoveries 


i8o 


DISCOURSE 


alluded  to,  inasmuch  as  besides  the  stars,  I knew  noth- 
ing except  fire  which  produces  light,  I spared  no  pains 
to  set  forth  all  that  pertains  to  its  nature,  the  manner  of 
its  production  and  support,  and  to  explain  how  heat  is 
sometimes  found  without  light,  and  light  without  heat; 
to  show  how  it  can  induce  various  colors  upon  different 
bodies  and  other  diverse  qualities;  how  it  reduces  some 
to  a liquid  state  and  hardens  others;  how  it  can  con- 
sume almost  all  bodies,  or  convert  them  into  ashes  and 
smoke;  and  finally,  how  from  these  ashes,  by  the  mere 
intensity  of  its  action,  it  forms  glass:  for  as  this  trans- 
mutation of  ashes  into  glass  appeared  to  me  as  wonder- 
ful as  any  other  in  nature,  I took  a special  pleasure  in 
describing  it. 

I was  not,  however,  disposed,  from  these  circumstances, 
to  conclude  that  this  world  had  been  created  in  the 
manner  I described;  for  it  is  much  more  likely  that  God 
made  it  at  the  first  such  as  it  was  to  be.  But  this  is 
certain,  and  an  opinion  commonly  received  among  the- 
ologians, that  the  action  by  which  he  now  sustains  it  is 
the  same  with  that  by  which  he  originally  created  it;  so 
that  even  although  he  had  from  the  beginning  given  it 
no  other  form  than  that  of  chaos,  provided  only  he 
had  established  certain  laws  of  nature,  and  had  lent  it 
his  concurrence  to  enable  it  to  act  as  it  is  wont  to  do,  it 
may  be  believed  without  discredit  to  the  miracle  of  cre- 
ation, that,  in  this  way  alone,  things  purely  material 
might,  in  course  of  time,  have  become  such  as  we  ob- 
serve them  at  present;  and  their  nature  is  much  more 
easily  conceived  when  they  are  beheld  coming  in  this 
manner  gradually  into  existence,  than  when  they  are 
only  considered  as  produced  at  once  in  a finished  and 
perfect  state. 

From  the  description  of  inanimate  bodies  and  plants, 
I passed  to  animals,  and  particularly  to  man.  But  since 
I had  not  as  yet  sufficient  knowledge  to  enable  me  to 
treat  of  these  in  the  same  manner  as  of  the  rest,  that 
is  to  say,  by  deducing  effects  from  their  causes,  and  by 
showing  from  what  elements  and  in  what  manner  na- 
ture must  produce  them,  I remained  satisfied  with  the 
supposition  that  God  formed  the  body  of  man  wholly  like 
to  one  of  ours,  as  well  in  the  external  shape  of  the 
members  as  in  the  internal  conformation  of  the  organs, 


ON  METHOD 


1 8 1 


of  the  same  matter  with  that  I had  described,  and  at 
first  placed  in  it  no  Rational  Soul,  nor  any  other  prin- 
ciple, in  room  of  the  Vegetative  or  Sensitive  Soul,  be- 
yond kindling  in  the  heart  one  of  those  fires  without 
light,  such  as  I had  already  described,  and  which  I 
thought  was  not  different  from  the  heat  in  hay  that  has 
been  heaped  together  before  it  is  dry,  or  that  which 
causes  fermentation  in  new  wines  before  they  are  run 
clear  of  the  fruit.  For,  when  I examined  the  kind  of  func- 
tions which  might,  as  consequences  of  this  supposition, 
exist  in  this  body,  I found  precisely  all  those  which 
may  exist  in  us  independently  of  all  power  of  thinking, 
and  consequently  without  being  in  any  measure  owing  to 
the  soul;  in  other  words,  to  that  part  of  us  which  is  dis- 
tinct from  the  body,  and  of  which  it  has  been  said  above 
that  the  nature  distinctly  consists  in  thinking,  functions 
in  which  the  animals  void  of  Reason  may  be  said  wholly 
to  resemble  us;  but  among  which  I could  not  discover 
any  of  those  that,  as  dependent  on  thought  alone,  belong 
to  us  as  men,  while,  on  the  other  hand,  I did  afterward 
discover  these  as  soon  as  I supposed  God  to  have  cre- 
ated a Rational  Soul,  and  to  have  annexed  it  to  this 
body  in  a particular  manner  which  I described. 

But,  in  order  to  show  how  I there  handled  this  mat- 
ter, I mean  here  to  give  the  explication  of  the  motion 
of  the  heart  and  arteries,  which,  as  the  first  and  most 
general  motion  observed  in  animals,  will  afford  the 
means  of  readily  determining  what  should  be  thought 
of  all  the  rest.  And  that  there  may  be  less  difficulty 
in  understanding  what  I am  about  to  say  on  this  sub- 
ject, I advise  those  who  are  not  versed  in  Anatomy, 
before  they  commence  the  perusal  of  these  observations, 
to  take  the  trouble  of  getting  dissected  in  their  presence 
the  heart  of  some  large  animal  possessed  of  lungs,  (for 
this  is  throughout  sufficiently  like  the  human),  and  to 
have  shown  to  them  its  two  ventricles  or  cavities:  in 
the  first  place,  that  in  the  right  side,  with  which  cor- 
respond two  very  ample  tubes,  viz.,  the  hollow  vein, 
(vena  cava),  which  is  the  principal  receptacle  of  the 
blood,  and  the  trunk  of  the  tree,  as  it  were,  of  which 
all  the  other  veins  in  the  body  are  branches;  and  the 
arterial  vein,  ( vena  arteriosa ),  inappropriately  so  denom- 
inated, since  it  is  in  truth  only  an  artery,  which, 


182 


DISCOURSE 


taking  its  rise  in  the  heart,  is  divided,  after  passing  out 
from  it,  into  many  branches  which  presently  disperse 
themselves  all  over  the  lungs;  in  the  second  place,  the 
cavity  in  the  left  side,  with  which  correspond  in  the 
same  manner  two  canals  in  size  equal  to  or  larger  than 
the  preceding,  viz,  the  venous  artery,  ( arteria  venosa ), 
likewise  inappropriately  thus  designated,  because  it  is 
simply  a vein  which  comes  from  the  lungs,  where  it  is 
divided  into  many  branches,  interlaced  with  those  of 
the  arterial  vein,  and  those  of  the  tube  called  the 
windpipe,  through  which  the  air  we  breathe  enters; 
and  the  great  artery  which,  issuing  from  the  heart, 
sends  its  branches  all  over  the  body.  I should  wish 
also  that  such  persons  were  carefully  shown  the  eleven 
pellicles  which,  like  so  many  small  valves,  open  and 
shut  the  four  orifices  that  are  in  these  two  cavities, 
viz.,  three  at  the  entrance  of  the  hollow  vein,  where 
they  are  disposed  in  such  a manner  as  by  no  means  to 
prevent  the  blood  which  it  contains  from  flowing  into 
the  right  ventricle  of  the  heart,  and  yet  exactly  to 
prevent  its  flowing  out;  three  at  the  entrance  to  the 
arterial  vein,  which,  arranged  in  a manner  exactly  the 
opposite  of  the  former,  readily  permit  the  blood  con- 
tained in  this  cavity  to  pass  into  the  lungs,  but  hinder 
that  contained  in  the  lungs  from  returning  to  this 
cavity;  and,  in  like  manner,  two  others  at  the  mouth 
of  the  venous  artery,  which  allow  the  blood  from  the 
kings  to  flow  into  the  left  cavity  of  the  heart,  but  pre- 
clude its  return;  and  three  at  the  mouth  of  the  great 
artery,  which  suffer  the  blood  to  flow  from  the  heart, 
but  prevent  its  reflux.  Nor  do  we  need  to  seek  any 
other  reasons  for  the  number  of  these  pellicles  beyond 
this  that  the  orifice  of  the  venous  artery  being  of  an 
oval  shape  from  the  nature  of  its  situation,  can  be  ade- 
quately closed  with  two,  whereas  the  others  being 
round  are  more  conveniently  closed  with  three.  Be- 
sides, I wish  such  persons  to  observe  that  the  grand 
artery  and  the  arterial  vein  are  of  much  harder  and 
firmer  texture  than  the  venous  artery  and  the  hollow 
vein;  and  that  the  two  last  expand  before  entering  the 
heart,  and  there  form,  as  it  were,  two  pouches  denom- 
inated the  auricles  of  the  heart,  which  are  composed 
of  a substance  similar  to  that  of  the  heart  itself;  and 


ON  METHOD 


183 


that  there  is  always  more  warmth  in  the  heart  than  in 
any  other  part  of  the  body;  and,  finally,  that  this  heat 
is  capable  of  causing  any  drop  of  blood  that  passes  into 
the  cavities  rapidly  to  expand  and  dilate,  just  as  all 
liquors  do  when  allowed  to  fall  drop  by  drop  into  a 
highly  heated  vessel. 

For,  after  these  things,  it  is  not  necessary  for  me  to 
say  anything  more  with  a view  to  explain  the  motion  of 
the  heart,  except  that  when  its  cavities  are  not  full  of 
blood,  into  these  the  blood  of  necessity  flows,  from  the  hol- 
low vein  into  the  right,  and  from  the  venous  artery  into 
the  left;  because  these  two  vessels  are  always  full  of 
blood,  and  their  orifices,  which  are  turned  toward  the 
heart,  cannot  then  be  closed.  But  as  soon  as  two  drops 
of  blood  have  thus  passed,  one  into  each  of  the  cavities, 
these  drops  which  cannot  but  be  very  large,  because  the 
orifices  through  which  they  pass  are  wide,  and  the  vessels 
from  which  they  come  full  of  blood,  are  immediately  rare- 
fied, and  dilated  by  the  heat  they  meet  with.  In  this  way 
they  cause  the  whole  heart  to  expand,  and  at  the  same 
time  press  home  and  shut  the  five  small  valves  that  are 
at  the  entrances  of  the  two  vessels  from  which  they  flow, 
and  thus  prevent  any  more  blood  from  coming  down  into  the 
heart,  and  becoming  more  and  more  rarefied,  they  push  open 
the  six  small  valves  that  are  in  the  orifices  of  the  other 
two  vessels,  through  which  they  pass  out,  causing  in  this 
way  all  the  branches  of  the  arterial  vein  and  of  the  grand 
artery  to  expand  almost  simultaneously  with  the  heart  — 
which  immediately  thereafter  begins  to  contract,  as  do 
also  the  arteries,  because  the  blood  that  has  entered  them 
has  cooled,  and  the  six  small  valves  close,  and  the  five  of 
the  hollow  vein  and  of  the  venous  artery  open  anew  and 
allow  a passage  to  other  two  drops  of  blood,  which 
cause  the  heart  and  the  arteries  again  to  expand  as  be- 
fore. And,  because  the  blood  which  thus  enters  into  the 
heart  passes  through  these  two  pouches  called  auricles,  it 
thence  happens  that  their  motion  is  the  contrary  of  that 
of  the  heart,  and  that  when  it  expands  they  contract.  But 
lest  those  who  are  ignorant  of  the  force  of  mathematical 
demonstrations,  and  who  are  not  accustomed  to  distinguish 
true  reasons  from  mere  verisimilitudes,  should  venture, 
without  examination,  to  deny  what  has  been  said,  I wish 
it  to  be  considered  that  the  motion  which  I have  now 


184 


DISCOURSE 


explained  follows  as  necessarily  from  the  very  arrange- 
ment of  the  parts,  which  may  be  observed  in  the  heart 
by  the  eye  alone,  and  from  the  heat  which  may  be  felt 
with  the  fingers,  and  from  the  nature  of  the  blood  as 
learned  from  experience,  as  does  the  motion  of  a clock 
from  the  power,  the  situation,  and  shape  of  its  counter- 
weights and  wheels. 

But  if  it  be  asked  how  it  happens  that  the  blood  in 
the  veins,  flowing  in  this  way  continually  into  the  heart, 
is  not  exhausted,  and  why  the  arteries  do  not  become 
too  full,  since  all  the  blood  which  passes  through  the 
heart  flows  into  them,  I need  only  mention  in  reply  what 
has  been  written  by  a physician*  of  England,  who  has 
the  honor  of  having  broken  the  ice  on  this  subject,  and 
of  having  been  the  first  to  teach  that  there  are  many 
small  passages  at  the  extremities  of  the  arteries,  through 
which  the  blood  received  by  them  from  the  heart  passes 
into  the  small  branches  of  the  veins,  whence  it  again 
returns  to  the  heart ; so  that  its  course  amounts  precisely 
to  a perpetual  circulation.  Of  this  we  have  abundant 
proof  in  the  ordinary  experience  of  surgeons,  who,  by 
binding  the  arm  with  a tie  of  moderate  straitness  above 
the  part  where  they  open  the  vein,  cause  the  blood  to 
flow  more  copiously  than  it  would  have  done  without 
any  ligature ; whereas  quite  the  contrary  would  happen 
were  they  to  bind  it  below;  that  is,  between  the  hand 
and  the  opening,  or  were  to  make  the  ligature  above  the 
opening  very  tight.  For  it  is  manifest  that  the  tie, 
moderately  straitened,  while  adequate  to  hinder  the  blood 
already  in  the  arm  from  returning  toward  the  heart  by 
the  veins,  cannot  on  that  account  prevent  new  blood 
from  coming  forward  through  the  arteries,  because  these 
are  situated  below  the  veins,  and  their  coverings,  from 
their  greater  consistency,  are  more  difficult  to  compress; 
and  also  that  the  blood  which  comes  from  the  heart 
tends  to  pass  through  them  to  the  hand  with  greater 
force  than  it  does  to  return  from  the  hand  to  the  heart 
through  the  veins.  And  since  the  latter  current  escapes 
from  the  arm  by  the  opening  made  in  one  of  the  veins, 
there  must  of  necessity  be  certain  passages  below  the 
ligature,  that  is,  toward  the  extremities  of  the  arm 
through  which  it  can  come  thither  from  the  arteries. 

* Harvey.  — Lat.  Tr. 


ON  METHOD 


185 

This  physician  likewise  abundantly  establishes  what  he 
has  advanced  respecting  the  motion  of  the  blood,  from 
the  existence  of  certain  pellicles,  so  disposed  in  various 
places  along  the  course  of  the  veins,  in  the  manner  of 
small  valves,  as  not  to  permit  the  blood  to  pass  from  the 
middle  of  the  body  toward  the  extremities,  but  only  to 
return  from  the  extremities  to  the  heart;  and  farther, 
from  experience  which  shows  that  all  the  blood  which 
is  in  the  body  may  flow  out  of  it  in  a very  short  time 
through  a single  artery  that  has  been  cut,  even  although 
this  had  been  closely  tied  in  the  immediate  neighbor- 
hood of  the  heart,  and  cut  between  the  heart  and  the  liga- 
ture, so  as  to  prevent  the  supposition  that  the  blood  flowing 
out  of  it  could  come  from  any  other  quarter  than  the  heart. 

But  there  are  many  other  circumstances  which  evince 
that  what  I have  alleged  is  the  true  cause  of  the  motion 
of  the  blood:  thus,  in  the  first  place,  the  difference  that 
is  observed  between  the  blood  which  flows  from  the  veins, 
and  that  from  the  arteries,  can  only  arise  from  this,  that 
being  rarefied,  and,  as  it  were,  distilled  by  passing 
through  the  heart,  it  is  thinner,  and  more  vivid,  and 
warmer  immediately  after  leaving  the  heart,  in  other 
words,  when  in  the  arteries,  than  it  was  a short  time 
before  passing  into  either,  in  other  words,  when  it  was 
in  the  veins;  and  if  attention  be  given,  it  will  be  found 
that  this  difference  is  very  marked  only  in  the  neighbor- 
hood of  the  heart;  and  is  not  so  evident  in  parts  more 
remote  from  it.  In  the  next  place,  the  consistency  of  the 
coats  of  which  the  arterial  vein  and  the  great  artery  are 
composed,  sufficiently  shows  that  the  blood  is  impelled 
against  them  with  more  force  than  against  the  veins. 
And  why  should  the  left  cavity  of  the  heart  and  the  great 
artery  be  wider  and  larger  than  the  right  cavity  and  the 
arterial  vein,  were  it  not  that  the  blood  of  the  venous 
artery,  having  only  been  in  the  lungs  after  it  has  passed 
through  the  heart,  is  thinner,  and  rarefies  more  readily, 
and  in  a higher  degree,  than  the  blood  which  proceeds 
immediately  from  the  hollow  vein  ? And  what  can  phy- 
sicians conjecture  from  feeling  the  pulse  unless  they  know 
that  according  as  the  blood  changes  its  nature  it  can  be 
rarefied  by  the  warmth  of  the  heart,  in  a higher  or  lower 
degree,  and  more  or  less  quickly  than  before  ? And  if  it 
be  inquired  how  this  heat  is  communicated  to  the  other 


1 86 


DISCOURSE 


members,  must  it  not  be  admitted  that  this  is  effected  by- 
means  of  the  blood,  which,  passing  through  the  heart,  is 
there  heated  anew,  and  thence  diffused  over  all  the  body  ? 
Whence  it  happens,  that  if  the  blood  be  withdrawn  from 
any  part,  the  heat  is  likewise  withdrawn  by  the  same 
means;  and  although  the  heart  were  as  hot  as  glowing 
iron,  it  would  not  be  capable  of  warming  the  feet  and 
hands  as  at  present,  unless  it  continually  sent  thither 
new  blood.  We  likewise  perceive  from  this,  that  the 
true  use  of  respiration  is  to  bring  sufficient  fresh  air 
into  the  lungs,  to  cause  the  blood  which  flows  into 
them  from  the  right  ventricle  of  the  heart,  where  it 
has  been  rarefied  and,  as  it  were,  changed  into  vapors, 
to  become  thick,  and  to  convert  it  anew  into  blood, 
before  it  flows  into  the  left  cavity,  without  which  process 
it  would  be  unfit  for  the  nourishment  of  the  fire  that  is 
there.  This  receives  confirmation  from  the  circumstance, 
that  it  is  observed  of  animals  destitute  of  lungs  that  they 
have  also  but  one  cavity  in  the  heart,  and  that  in  chil- 
dren who  cannot  use  them  while  in  the  womb,  there  is 
a hole  through  which  the  blood  flows  from  the  hollow 
vein  into  the  left  cavity  of  the  heart  and  a tube  through 
which  it  passes  from  the  arterial  vein  into  the  grand  ar- 
tery without  passing  through  the  lung.  In  the  next 
place,  how  could  digestion  be  carried  on  in  the  stomach, 
unless  the  heart  communicated  heat  to  it  through  the 
arteries,  and  along  with  this  certain  of  the  more  fluid 
parts  of  the  blood,  which  assist  in  the  dissolution  of  the 
food  that  has  been  taken  in  ? Is  not  also  the  operation 
which  converts  the  juice  of  food  into  blood  easily  com- 
prehended, when  it  is  considered  that  it  is  distilled  by 
passing  and  repassing  through  the  heart  perhaps  more 
than  one  or  two  hundred  times  in  a day  ? And  what 
more  need  be  adduced  to  explain  nutrition,  and  the  pro- 
duction of  the  different  humors  of  the  body,  beyond 
saying,  that  the  force  with  which  the  blood,  in  being 
rarefied,  passes  from  the  heart  toward  the  extremities  of 
the  arteries,  causes  certain  of  its  parts  to  remain  in  the 
members  at  which  they  arrive,  and  there  occupy  the 
place  of  some  others  expelled  by  them ; and  that  accord- 
ing to  the  situation,  shape,  or  smallness  of  the  pores 
with  which  they  meet,  some  rather  than  others  flow  into 
certain  parts,  in  the  same  way  that  some  sieves  are 


ON  METHOD 


187 

observed  to  act,  which,  by  being  variously  perforated, 
serve  to  separate  different  species  of  grain  ? And,  in  the 
last  place,  what  above  all  is  here  worthy  of  observation, 
is  the  generation  of  the  animal  spirits,  which  are  like  a 
very  subtle  wind,  or  rather  a very  pure  and  vivid  flame, 
which,  continually  ascending  in  great  abundance  from  the 
heart  to  the  brain,  thence  penetrates  through  the  nerves 
into  the  muscles,  and  gives  motion  to  all  the  members; 
so  that  to  account  for  other  parts  of  the  blood  which,  as 
most  agitated  and  penetrating,  are  the  fittest  to  compose 
these  spirits,  proceeding  toward  the  brain,  it  is  not  nec- 
essary to  suppose  any  other  cause,  than  simply,  that  the 
arteries  which  carry  them  thither  proceed  from  the  heart 
in  the  most  direct  lines,  and  that,  according  to  the  rules 
of  Mechanics,  which  are  the  same  with  those  of  Nature, 
when  many  objects  tend  at  once  to  the  same  point  where 
there  is  not  sufficient  room  for  all  (as  is  the  case  with 
the  parts  of  the  blood  which  flow  forth  from  the  left 
cavity  of  the  heart  and  tend  toward  the  brain),  the 
weaker  and  less  agitated  parts  must  necessarily  be  driven 
aside  from  that  point  by  the  stronger  which  alone  in  this 
way  reach  it. 

I had  expounded  all  these  matters  with  sufficient  min- 
uteness in  the  Treatise  which  I formerly  thought  of 
publishing.  And  after  these,  I had  shown  what  must  be 
the  fabric  of  the  nerves  and  muscles  of  the  human  body 
to  give  the  animal  spirits  contained  in  it  the  power  to 
move  the  members,  as  when  we  see  heads  shortly  after 
they  have  been  struck  off  still  move  and  bite  the  earth, 
although  no  longer  animated;  what  changes  must  take 
place  in  the  brain  to  produce  waking,  sleep  and  dreams; 
how  light,  sounds,  odors,  tastes,  heat,  and  all  the  other 
qualities  of  external  objects  impress  it  with  different 
ideas  by  means  of  the  senses;  how  hunger,  thirst,  and 
the  other  internal  affections  can  likewise  impress  upon  it 
divers  ideas;  what  must  be  understood  by  the  common 
sense  (sensus  communis ) in  which  these  ideas  are  received, 
by  the  memory  which  retains  them,  by  the  fantasy  which 
can  change  them  in  various  ways,  and  out  of  them  com- 
pose new  ideas,  and  which,  by  the  same  means,  distribut- 
ing the  animal  spirits  through  the  muscles,  can  cause  the 
members  of  such  a body  to  move  in  as  many  different 
ways,  and  in  a manner  as  suited,  whether  to  the  objects 


1 88 


DISCOURSE 


that  are  presented  to  its  senses  or  to  its  internal  affec- 
tions, as  can  take  place  in  our  own  case  apart  from  the 
guidance  of  the  will.  Nor  will  this  appear  at  all  strange 
to  those  who  are  acquainted  with  the  variety  of  move- 
ments performed  by  the  different  automata,  or  moving 
machines  fabricated  by  human  industry,  and  that  with 
help  of  but  few  pieces  compared  with  the  great  multi- 
tude of  bones,  muscles,  nerves,  arteries,  veins,  and  othei 
parts  that  are  found  in  the  body  of  each  animal.  Such 
persons  will  look  upon  this  body  as  a machine  made  by 
the  hands  of  God,  which  is  incomparably  better  arranged, 
and  adequate  to  movements  more  admirable  than  is  any 
machine  of  human  invention.  And  here  I specially 
stayed  to  show  that,  were  there  such  machines  exactly 
resembling  in  organs  and  outward  form  an  ape  or  any 
other  irrational  animal,  we  could  have  no  means  of  know- 
ing that  they  were  in  any  respect  of  a different  nature 
from  these  animals;  but  if  there  were  machines  bearing 
the  image  of  our  bodies,  and  capable  of  imitating  our 
actions  as  far  as  it  is  morally  possible,  there  would  still 
remain  two  most  certain  tests  whereby  to  know  that  they 
were  not  therefore  really  men.  Of  these  the  first  is  that 
they  could  never  use  words  or  other  signs  arranged  in 
such  a manner  as  is  competent  to  us  in  order  to  declare 
our  thoughts  to  others:  for  we  may  easily  conceive  a 
machine  to  be  so  constructed  that  it  emits  vocables,  and 
even  that  it  emits  some  correspondent  to  the  action  upon 
it  of  external  objects  which  cause  a change  in  its  organs; 
for  example,  if  touched  in  a particular  place  it  may 

demand  what  we  wish  to  say  to  it ; if  in  another,  it  may 

cry  out  that  it  is  hurt,  and  such  like;  but  not  that  it 
should  arrange  them  variously  so  as  appositely  to  reply 
to  what  is  said  in  its  presence,  as  men  of  the  lowest 
grade  of  intellect  can  do.  The  second  test  is,  that 
although  such  machines  might  execute  many  things 

with  equal  or  perhaps  greater  perfection  than  any  of 
us,  they  would,  without  doubt,  fail  in  certain  others 

from  which  it  could  be  discovered  that  they  did  not  act 
from  knowledge,  but  solely  from  the  disposition  of  their 
organs:  for  while  Reason  is  an  universal  instrument 
that  is  alike  available  on  every  occasion,  these  organs,  on 
the  contrary,  need  a particular  arrangement  for  each  par- 
ticular action ; whence  it  must  be  morally  impossible  that 


ON  METHOD 


189 


there  should  exist  in  any  machine  a diversity  of  organs 
sufficient  to  enable  it  to  act  in  all  the  occurrences  of  life, 
in  the  way  in  which  our  reason  enables  us  to  act. 
Again,  by  means  of  these  two  tests  we  may  likewise 
know  the  difference  between  men  and  brutes.  For  it  is 
highly  deserving  of  remark,  that  there  are  no  men  so 
dull  and  stupid,  not  even  idiots,  as  to  be  incapable  of 
joining  together  different  words,  and  thereby  constructing 
a declaration  by  which  to  make  their  thoughts  under- 
stood; and  that  on  the  other  hand,  there  is  no  other 
animal,  however  perfect  or  happily  circumstanced  which 
can  do  the  like.  Nor  does  this  inability  arise  from  want 
of  organs:  for  we  observe  that  magpies  and  parrots  can 
utter  words  like  ourselves,  and  are  yet  unable  to  speak 
as  we  do,  that  is,  so  as  to  show  that  they  understand  what 
they  say;  in  place  of  which  men  born  deaf  and  dumb,  and 
thus  not  less,  but  rather  more  than  the  brutes,  destitute 
of  the  organs  which  others  use  in  speaking,  are  in  the 
habit  of  spontaneously  inventing  certain  signs  by  which 
they  discover  their  thoughts  to  those  who,  being  usually 
in  their  company,  have  leisure  to  learn  their  language. 
And  this  proves  not  only  that  the  brutes  have  less  Reason 
than  man,  but  that  they  have  none  at  all : for  we  see  that 
very  little  is  required  to  enable  a person  to  speak;  and 
since  a certain  inequality  of  capacity  is  observable  among 
animals  of  the  same  species,  as  well  as  among  men,  and 
since  some  are  more  capable  of  being  instructed  than 
others,  it  is  incredible  that  the  most  perfect  ape  or  parrot 
of  its  species,  should  not  in  this  be  equal  to  the  most 
stupid  infant  of  its  kind,  or  at  least  to  one  that  was 
crack-brained,  unless  the  soul  of  brutes  were  of  a nature 
wholly  different  from  ours.  And  we  ought  not  to  con- 
found speech  with  the  natural  movements  which  indicate 
the  passions,  and  can  be  imitated  by  machines  as  well  as 
manifested  by  animals ; nor  must  it  be  thought  with 
certain  of  the  ancients,  that  the  brutes  speak,  although 
we  do  not  understand  their  language.  For  if  such  were 
the  case,  since  they  are  endowed  with  many  organs 
analogous  to  ours,  they  could  as  easily  communicate  their 
thoughts  to  us  as  to  their  fellows.  It  is  also  very  worthy 
of  remark,  that,  though  there  are  many  animals  which 
manifest  more  industry  than  we  in  certain  of  their  actions, 
the  same  animals  are  yet  observed  to  show  none  at  all  in 


i go 


DISCOURSE 


many  others : so  that  the  circumstance  that  they  do  tetter 
than  we  does  not  prove  that  they  are  endowed  with  mind, 
for  it  would  thence  follow  that  they  possessed  greater 
Reason  than  any  of  us,  and  could  surpass  us  in  all  things ; 
on  the  contrary,  it  rather  proves  that  they  are  destitute 
of  Reason,  and  that  it  is  Nature  which  acts  in  them  accord- 
ing to  the  disposition  of  their  organs:  thus  it  is  seen, 
that  a clock  composed  only  of  wheels  and  weights,  can 
number  the  hours  and  measure  time  more  exactly  than 
we  with  all  our  skill. 

I had  after  this  described  the  Reasonable  Soul,  and 
shown  that  it  could  by  no  means  be  educed  from  the 
power  of  matter,  as  the  other  things  of  which  I had 
spoken,  but  that  it  must  be  expressly  created ; and  that 
it  is  not  sufficient  that  it  be  lodged  in  the  human  body 
exactly  like  a pilot  in  a ship,  unless  perhaps  to  move 
its  members,  but  that  it  is  necessary  for  it  to  be  joined 
and  united  more  closely  to  the  body,  in  order  to  have 
sensations  and  appetites  similar  to  ours,  and  thus  con- 
stitute a real  man.  I here  entered,  in  conclusion  upon 
the  subject  of  the  soul  at  considerable  length,  because 
it  is  of  the  greatest  moment : for  after  the  error  of  those 
who  deny  the  existence  of  God,  an  error  which  I think 
I have  already  sufficiently  refuted,  there  is  none  that  is 
more  powerful  in  leading  feeble  minds  astray  from  the 
straight  path  of  virtue  than  the  supposition  that  the  soul 
of  the  brutes  is  of  the  same  nature  with  our  own ; and 
consequently  that  after  this  life  we  have  nothing  to  hope 
for  or  fear,  more  than  flies  and  ants;  in  place  of  which, 
when  we  know  how  far  they  differ  we  much  better  com- 
prehend the  reasons  which  establish  that  the  soul  is  of 
a nature  wholly  independent  of  the  body,  and  that  con- 
sequently it  is  not  liable  to  die  with  the  latter;  and, 
finally,  because  no  other  causes  are  observed  capable  of 
destroying  it,  we  are  naturally  led  thence  to  judge  that 
it  is  immortal. 


PART  VI. 

Three  years  have  now  elapsed  since  I finished  the 
Treatise  containing  all  these  matters;  and  I was  begin- 
ning to  revise  it,  with  the  view  to  put  it  into  the  hands 


ON  METHOD 


191 

of  a printer,  when  I learned  that  persons  to  whom  I 
greatly  defer,  and  whose  authority  over  my  action  is 
hardly  less  influential  than  is  my  own  Reason  over  my 
thoughts,  had  condemned  a certain  doctrine  in  Physics, 
published  a short  time  previously  by  another  individual,* 
to  which  I will  not  say  that  I adhered,  but  only  that, 
previously  to  their  censure,  I had  observed  in  it  nothing 
which  I could  imagine  to  be  prejudicial  either  to  religion 
or  to  the  state,  and  nothing  therefore  which  would  have 
prevented  me  from  giving  expression  to  it  in  writing,  if 
Reason  had  persuaded  me  of  its  truth;  and  this  led  me 
to  fear  lest  among  my  own  doctrines  likewise  some  one 
might  be  found  in  which  I had  departed  from  the  truth, 
notwithstanding  the  great  care  I have  always  taken  not 
to  accord  belief  to  new  opinions  of  which  I had  not  the 
most  certain  demonstrations,  and  not  to  give  expression 
to  aught  that  might  tend  to  the  hurt  of  any  one.  This 
has  been  sufficient  to  make  me  alter  my  purpose  of  pub- 
lishing them;  for  although  the  reasons  by  which  I had 
been  induced  to  take  this  resolution  were  very  strong, 
yet  my  inclination,  which  has  alway  been  hostile  to  writ- 
ing books,  enabled  me  immediately  to  discover  other  con- 
siderations sufficient  to  excuse  me  for  not  undertaking 
the  task.  And  these  reasons,  on  one  side  and  the  other, 
are  such,  that  not  only  is  it  in  some  measure  my  inter- 
est here  to  state  them,  but  that  of  the  public,  perhaps, 
to  know  them. 

I have  never  made  much  account  of  what  has  proceeded 
from  my  own  mind;  and  so  long  as  I gathered  no  other 
advantage  from  the  Method  I employ  beyond  satisfying 
myself  on  some  difficulties  belonging  to  the  speculative 
sciences,  or  endeavoring  to  regulate  my  actions  according 
to  the  principles  it  taught  me,  I never  thought  myself 
bound  to  publish  anything  respecting  it.  For  in  what 
regards  manners,  every  one  is  so  full  of  his  own  wisdom, 
that  there  might  be  found  as  many  reformers  as  heads, 
if  any  were  allowed  to  take  upon  themselves  the  task  of 
mending  them,  except  those  whom  God  has  constituted 
the  supreme  rulers  of  his  people,  or  to  whom  he  has 
given  sufficient  grace  and  zeal  to  be  prophets;  and  al- 
though my  speculations  greatly  pleased  myself,  I believed 
that  others  had  theirs,  which  perhaps  pleased  them  still 

* Galileo. — 7V. 


193 


DISCOURSE 


more.  But  as  soon  as  I had  acquired  some  general  no- 
tions respecting  Physics,  and  beginning  to  make  trial  of 
them  in  various  particular  difficulties,  had  observed  how 
far  they  can  carry  us,  and  how  much  they  differ  from  the 
principles  that  have  been  employed  up  to  the  present 
time,  I believed  that  I could  not  keep  them  concealed 
without  sinning  grievously  against  the  law  by  which  we 
are  bound  to  promote,  as  far  as  in  us  lies,  the  general 
good  of  mankind.  For  by  them  I perceived  it  to  be  pos- 
sible to  arrive  at  knowledge  highly  useful  in  life ; and  in 
room  of  the  Speculative  Philosophy  usually  taught  in  the 
Schools,  to  discover  a Practical,  by  means  of  which, 
knowing  the  force  and  action  of  fire,  water,  air,  the  stars, 
the  heavens,  and  all  the  other  bodies  that  surround  us,  as 
distinctly  as  we  know  the  various  crafts  of  our  artisans, 
we  might  also  apply  them  in  the  same  way  to  all  the 
uses  to  which  they  are  adapted,  and  thus  render  ourselves 
the  lords  and  possessors  of  nature.  And  this  is  a result 
to  be  desired,  not  only  in  order  to  the  invention  of  an 
infinity  of  arts,  by  which  we  might  be  enabled  to  enjoy 
without  any  trouble  the  fruits  of  the  earth,  and  all  its 
comforts,  but  also  and  especially  for  the  preservation  of 
health,  which  is  without  doubt,  of  all  the  blessings  of 
this  life,  the  first  and  fundamental  one ; for  the  mind  is 
so  intimately  dependent  upon  the  condition  and  relation 
of  the  organs  of  the  body,  that  if  any  means  can  ever 
be  found  to  render  men  wiser  and  more  ingenious  than 
hitherto,  I believe  that  it  is  in  Medicine  they  must  be  sought 
for.  It  is  true  that  the  science  of  Medicine,  as  it  now 
exists,  contains  few  things  whose  utility  is  very  remarka- 
ble : but  without  any  wish  to  depreciate  it,  I am  confident 
that  there  is  no  one,  even  among  those  whose  profession 
it  is,  who  does  not  admit  that  all  at  present  known  in  it 
is  almost  nothing  in  comparison  of  what  remains  to  be 
discovered;  and  that  we  could  free  ourselves  from  an  in- 
finity of  maladies  of  body  as  well  as  of  mind,  and  per- 
haps also  even  from  the  debility  of  age,  if  we  had 
sufficiently  ample  knowledge  of  their  causes,  and  of  all 
the  remedies  provided  for  us  by  Nature.  But  since  I de- 
signed to  employ  my  whole  life  in  the  search  after  so 
necessary  a Science,  and  since  I had  fallen  in  with  a path 
which  seems  to  me  such,  that  if  any  one  follow  it  he  must 
inevitably  reach  the  end  desired,  unless  he  be  hindered 


ON  METHOD 


'93 


either  by  the  shortness  of  life  or  the  want  of  experiments, 
I judged  that  there  could  be  no  more  effectual  provision 
against  these  two  impediments  than  if  I were  faithfully 
to  communicate  to  the  public  all  the  little  I might  my- 
self have  found,  and  incite  men  of  superior  genius  to 
strive  to  proceed  farther,  by  contributing,  each  accord- 
ing to  his  inclination  and  ability,  to  the  experiments 
which  it  would  be  necessary  to  make,  and  also  by  in- 
forming the  public  of  all  they  might  discover,  so  that, 
by  the  last  beginning  where  those  before  them  had  left 
off,  and  thus  connecting  the  lives  and  labors  of  many, 
we  might  collectively  proceed  much  farther  than  each  by 
himself  could  do. 

I remarked,  moreover,  with  respect  to  experiments, 
that  they  become  always  more  necessary  the  more  one 
is  advanced  in  knowledge;  for,  at  the  commencement,  it 
is  better  to  make  use  only  of  what  is  spontaneously  pre- 
sented to  our  senses,  and  of  which  we  cannot  remain 
ignorant,  provided  we  bestow  on  it  any  reflection,  how- 
ever slight,  than  to  concern  ourselves  about  more  un- 
common and  recondite  phenomena:  the  reason  of  which 
is,  that  the  more  uncommon  often  only  mislead  us  so 
long  as  the  causes  of  the  more  ordinary  are  still  unknown ; 
and  the  circumstances  upon  which  they  depend  are  almost 
always  so  special  and  minute  as  to  be  highly  difficult  to 
detect.  But  in  this  I have  adopted  the  following  order: 
first,  I have  essayed  to  find  in  general  the  principles,  or 
first  causes  of  all  that  is  or  can  be  in  the  world,  without 
taking  into  consideration  for  this  end  anything  but  God 
himself  who  has  created  it,  and  without  educing  them 
from  any  other  source  than  from  certain  germs  of  truths 
naturally  existing  in  our  minds.  In  the  second  place,  I 
examined  what  were  the  first  and  most  ordinary  effects 
that  could  be  deduced  from  these  causes;  and  it  appears 
to  me  that,  in  this  way,  I have  found  heavens,  stars, 
and  earth,  and  even  on  the  earth,  water,  air,  fire,  minerals, 
and  some  other  things  of  this  kind,  which  of  all  others 
are  the  most  common  and  simple,  and  hence  the  easiest 
to  know.  Afterward,  when  I wished  to  descend  to  the 
more  particular,  so  many  diverse  objects  presented  them- 
selves to  me,  that  I believed  it  to  be  impossible  for  the 
human  mind  to  distinguish  the  forms  or  species  of  bodies 
that  are  upon  the  earth,  from  an  infinity  of  others  which 
13 


194 


DISCOURSE 


might  have  been,  if  it  had  pleased  God  to  place  them 
there,  or  consequently  to  apply  them  to  our  use,  unless 
we  rise  to  causes  through  their  effects,  and  avail  ourselves 
of  many  particular  experiments.  Thereupon,  turning 
over  in  my  mind  all  the  objects  that  had  ever  been  pre- 
sented to  my  senses,  I freely  venture  to  state  that  I have 
never  observed  any  which  I could  not  satisfactorily  ex- 
plain by  the  principles  I had  discovered.  But  it  is  neces- 
sary also  to  confess  that  the  power  of  nature  is  so  ample 
and  vast,  and  these  principles  so  simple  and  general,  that 
I have  hardly  observed  a single  particular  effect  which  I 
cannot  at  once  recognize  as  capable  of  being  deduced  in 
many  different  modes  from  the  principles,  and  that  my 
greatest  difficulty  usually  is  to  discover  in  which  of  these 
modes  the  effect  is  dependent  upon  them ; for  out  of  this 
difficulty  I cannot  otherwise  extricate  myself  than  by 
again  seeking  certain  experiments,  which  may  be  such 
that  their  result  is  not  the  same,  if  it  is  in  the  one  of 
these  modes  that  we  must  explain  it,  as  it  would  be  if 
it  were  to  be  explained  in  the  other.  As  to  what  re- 
mains, I am  now  in  a position  to  discern,  as  I think, 
with  sufficient  clearness  what  course  must  be  taken  to 
make  the  majority  of  those  experiments  which  may  con- 
duce to  this  end;  but  I perceive  likewise  that  they  are 
such  and  so  numerous,  that  neither  my  hands  nor  my 
income,  though  it  were  a thousand  times  larger  than  it 
is,  would  be  sufficient  for  them  all;  so  that,  according  as 
henceforward  I shall  have  the  means  of  making  more  or 
fewer  experiments,  I shall  in  the  same  proportion  make 
greater  or  less  progress  in  the  knowledge  of  nature.  This 
was  what  I had  hoped  to  make  known  by  the  Treatise  I 
had  written,  and  so  clearly  to  exhibit  the  advantage  that 
would  thence  accrue  to  the  public,  as  to  induce  all  who 
have  the  common  good  of  man  at  heart,  that  is,  all  who 
are  virtuous  in  truth,  and  not  merely  in  appearance,  or 
according  to  opinion,  as  well  to  communicate  to  me  the 
experiments  they  had  already  made,  as  to  assist  me  in 
those  that  remain  to  be  made. 

But  since  that  time  other  reasons  have  occurred  to  me, 
by  which  I have  been  led  to  change  my  opinion,  and  to 
think  that  I ought  indeed  to  go  on  committing  to  writ- 
ing all  the  results  which  I deemed  of  any  moment,  as 
soon  as  I should  have  tested  their  truth,  and  to  bestow 


ON  METHOD 


195 


the  same  care  upon  them  as  I would  have  done  had  it 
been  my  design  to  publish  them.  This  course  commended 
itself  to  me,  as  well  because  I thus  afforded  myself  more 
ample  inducement  to  examine  them  thoroughly,  for  doubt- 
less that  is  always  more  narrowly  scrutinized  which  we 
believe  will  be  read  by  many,  than  that  which  is  written 
merely  for  our  private  use  (and  frequently  what  has  seemed 
to  me  true  when  I first  conceived  it,  has  appeared  false 
when  I have  set  about  committing  it  to  writing) ; as  be- 
cause I thus  lost  no  opportunity  of  advancing  the  inter- 
ests of  the  public,  as  far  as  in  me  lay,  and  since  thus  likewise 
if  my  writings  possess  any  value,  those  into  whose  hands 
they  may  fall  after  my  death  may  be  able  to  put  them 
to  what  use  they  deem  proper.  But  I resolved  by  no  means 
to  consent  to  their  publication  during  my  lifetime,  lest 
either  the  oppositions  or  the  controversies  to  which  they 
might  give  rise,  or  even  the  reputation,  such  as  it  might 
be,  which  they  would  acquire  for  me,  should  be  any  oc- 
casion of  my  losing  the  time  that  I had  set  apart  for  my 
own  improvement.  For  though  it  be  true  that  every  one 
is  bound  to  promote  to  the  extent  of  his  ability  the  good 
of  others,  and  that  to  be  useful  to  no  one  is  really  to  be 
worthless,  yet  it  is  likewise  true  that  our  cares  ought  to 
extend  beyond  the  present;  and  it  is  good  to  omit  doing 
what  might  perhaps  bring  some  profit  to  the  living,  when 
we  have  in  view  the  accomplishment  of  other  ends  that 
will  be  of  much  greater  advantage  to  posterity.  And  in 
truth,  I am  quite  willing  it  should  be  known  that  the  little 
I have  hitherto  learned  is  almost  nothing  in  comparison 
with  that  of  which  I am  ignorant,  and  to  the  knowledge 
of  which  I do  not  despair  of  being  able  to  attain;  for  it 
is  much  the  same  with  those  who  gradually  discover 
truth  in  the  Sciences,  as  with  those  who  when  growing 
rich  find  less  difficulty  in  making  great  acquisitions,  than 
they  formerly  experienced  when  poor  in  making  acquisi- 
tions of  much  smaller  amount.  Or  they  may  be  compared 
to  the  commanders  of  armies,  whose  forces  usually  in- 
crease in  proportion  to  their  victories,  and  who  need  greater 
prudence  to  keep  together  the  residue  of  their  troops  after 
a defeat  than  after  a victory  to  take  towns  and  provinces. 
For  he  truly  engages  in  battle  who  endeavors  to  surmount 
all  the  difficulties  and  errors  which  prevent  him  from  reach- 
ing the  knowledge  of  truth,  and  he  is  overcome  in  fight  who 


196 


DISCOURSE 


admits  a false  opinion  touching  a matter  of  any  generality 
and  importance,  and  he  requires  thereafter  much  more 
skill  to  recover  his  former  position  than  to  make  great 
advances  when  once  in  possession  of  thoroughly  ascer- 
tained principles.  As  for  myself,  if  I have  succeeded  in 
discovering  any  truths  in  the  Sciences  (and  I trust  that 
what  is  contained  in  this  volume*  will  show  that  I have 
found  some),  I can  declare  that  they  are  but  the  conse- 
quences and  results  of  five  or  six  principal  difficulties 
which  I have  surmounted,  and  my  encounters  with  which 
I reckoned  as  battles  in  which  victory  declared  for  me. 
I will  not  hesitate  even  to  avow  my  belief  that  nothing 
further  is  wanting  to  enable  me  fully  to  realize  my 
designs  than  to  gain  two  or  three  similar  victories;  and 
that  I am  not  so  far  advanced  in  years  but  that,  accord- 
ing to  the  ordinary  course  of  nature,  I may  still  have 
sufficient  leisure  for  this  end.  But  I conceive  myself  the 
more  bound  to  husband  the  time  that  remains  the  greater 
my  expectation  of  being  able  to  employ  it  aright,  and  I 
should  doubtless  have  much  to  rob  me  of  it,  were  I to 
publish  the  principles  of  my  Physics;  for  although  they 
are  almost  all  so  evident  that  to  assent  to  them  no  more 
is  needed  than  simply  to  understand  them,  and  although 
there  is  not  one  of  them  of  which  I do  not  expect  to  be 
able  to  give  demonstration,  yet,  as  it  is  impossible  that 
they  can  be  in  accordance  with  all  the  diverse  opinions 
of  others,  I foresee  that  I should  frequently  be  turned 
aside  from  my  grand  design,  on  occasion  of  the  opposi- 
tion which  they  would  be  sure  to  awaken. 

It  may  be  said,  that  these  oppositions  would  be  useful 
both  in  making  me  aware  of  my  errors,  and,  if  my  specu- 
lations contain  anything  of  value,  in  bringing  others  to 
a fuller  understanding  of  it;  and  still  farther,  as  many 
can  see  better  than  one,  in  leading  others  who  are  now 
beginning  to  avail  themselves  of  my  principles,  to  assist 
me  in  turn  with  their  discoveries.  But  though  I recog- 
nize my  extreme  liability  to  error,  and  scarce  ever  trust 
to  the  first  thoughts  which  occur  to  me,  yet  the  experience 
I have  had  of  possible  objections  to  my  views  prevents 
me  from  anticipating  any  profit  from  them.  For  I have 
already  had  frequent  proof  of  the  judgments,  as  well  of 

* The  Discourse  on  Method  was  originally  published  along  with  the 
Dioptrics,  the  Meteorics,  and  the  Geometry. 


ON  METHOD 


197 


those  I esteemed  friends,  as  of  some  others  to  whom  I 
thought  I was  an  object  of  indifference,  and  even  of 
some  whose  malignity  and  envy  would,  I knew,  deter- 
mine them  to  endeavor  to  discover  what  partiality  con- 
cealed from  the  eyes  of  my  friends.  But  it  has  rarely 
happened  that  anything  has  been  objected  to  me  which 
I had  myself  altogether  overlooked,  unless  it  were  some- 
thing far  removed  from  the  subject:  so  that  I have  never 
met  with  a single  critic  of  my  opinions  who  did  not  ap- 
pear to  me  either  less  rigorous  or  less  equitable  than 
myself.  And  further,  I have  never  observed  that  any 
truth  before  unknown  has  been  brought  to  light  by  the 
disputations  that  are  practiced  in  the  Schools;  for  while 
each  strives  for  the  victory,  each  is  much  more  occupied 
in  making  the  best  of  mere  verisimilitude,  than  in 
weighing  the  reasons  on  both  sides  of  the  question;  and 
those  who  have  been  long  good  advocates  are  not  after- 
ward on  that  account  the  better  judges. 

As  for  the  advantage  that  others  would  derive  from 
the  communication  of  my  thoughts,  it  could  not  be  very 
great;  because  I have  not  yet  so  far  prosecuted  them  as 
that  much  does  not  remain  to  be  added  before  they  can 
be  applied  to  practice.  And  I think  I may  say  without 
vanity,  that  if  there  is  any  one  who  can  carry  them  out 
that  length,  it  must  be  myself  rather  than  another: 
not  that  there  may  not  be  in  the  world  many  minds 
incomparably  superior  to  mine,  but  because  one  cannot 
so  well  seize  a thing  and  make  it  one’s  own,  when  it  has 
been  learned  from  another,  as  when  one  has  himself 
discovered  it.  And  so  true  is  this  of  the  present  subject 
that,  though  I have  often  explained  some  of  my  opinions 
to  persons  of  much  acuteness,  who,  whilst  I was  speak- 
ing, appeared  to  understand  them  very  distinctly,  yet, 
when  they  repeated  them,  I have  observed  that  they 
almost  always  changed  them  to  such  an  extent  that  I 
could  no  longer  acknowledge  them  as  mine.  I am  glad, 
by  the  way,  to  take  this  opportunity  of  requesting  pos- 
terity never  to  believe  on  hearsay  that  anything  has 
proceeded  from  me  which  has  not  been  published  by 
myself;  and  I am  not  at  all  astonished  at  the  extrava- 
gances attributed  to  those  ancient  philosophers  whose 
own  writings  we  do  not  possess;  whose  thoughts,  how- 
ever, I do  not  on  that  account  suppose  to  have  been 


DISCOURSE 


really  absurd,  seeing  they  were  among  the  ablest  men 
of  their  times,  but  only  that  these  have  been  falsely 
represented  to  us.  It  is  observable,  accordingly,  that 
scarcely  in  a single  instance  has  any  one  of  their  disci- 
ples surpassed  them;  and  I am  quite  sure  that  the  most 
devoted  of  the  present  followers  of  Aristotle  would  think 
themselves  happy  if  they  had  as  much  knowledge  of  nature 
as  he  possessed,  were  it  even  under  the  condition  that  they 
should  never  afterward  attain  to  higher.  In  this  respect 
they  are  like  the  ivy  which  never  strives  to  rise  above  the 
tree  that  sustains  it,  and  which  frequently  even  returns 
downward  when  it  has  reached  the  top;  for  it  seems 
to  me  that  they  also  sink,  in  other  words,  render  them- 
selves less  wise  than  they  would  be  if  they  gave  up 
study,  who,  not  contented  with  knowing  all  that  is  in- 
telligibly explained  in  their  author,  desire  in  addition  to 
find  in  him  the  solution  of  many  difficulties  of  which  he 
says  not  a word,  and  never  perhaps  so  much  as  thought. 
Their  fashion  of  philosophizing,  however,  is  well  suited 
to  persons  whose  abilities  fall  below  mediocrity;  for  the 
obscurity  of  the  distinctions  and  principles  of  which  they 
make  use  enables  them  to  speak  of  all  things  with  as 
much  confidence  as  if  they  really  knew  them,  and  to 
defend  all  that  they  say  on  any  subject  against  the  most 
subtle  and  skillful,  without  its  being  possible  for  anyone 
to  convict  them  of  error.  In  this  they  seem  to  me  to  be 
like  a blind  man,  who,  in  order  to  fight  on  equal  terms 
with  a person  that  sees,  should  have  made  him  descend 
to  the  bottom  of  an  intensely  dark  cave:  and  I may  say 
that  such  persons  have  an  interest  in  my  refraining  from 
publishing  the  principles  of  the  Philosophy  of  which  I 
make  use ; for,  since  these  are  of  a kind  the  simplest  and 
most  evident,  I should,  by  publishing  them,  do  much  the 
same  as  if  I were  to  throw  open  the  windows,  and  allow 
the  light  of  day  to  enter  the  cave  into  which  the  com- 
batants had  descended.  But  even  superior  men  have  no 
reason  for  any  great  anxiety  to  know  these  principles, 
for  if  what  they  desire  is  to  be  able  to  speak  of  all 
things,  and  to  acquire  a reputation  for  learning,  they  will 
gain  their  end  more  easily  by  remaining  satisfied  with 
the  appearance  of  truth,  which  can  be  found  without 
much  difficulty  in  all  sorts  of  matters,  than  by  seeking 
the  truth  itself  which  unfolds  itself  but  slowly  and  that 


ON  METHOD 


199 


only  in  some  departments,  while  it  obliges  us,  when  we 
have  to  speak  of  others,  freely  to  confess  our  ignorance. 
If,  however,  they  prefer  the  knowledge  of  some  few 
truths  to  the  vanity  of  appearing  ignorant  of  none,  as 
such  knowledge  is  undoubtedly  much  to  be  preferred, 
and,  if  they  choose  to  follow  a course  similar  to  mine, 
they  do  not  require  for  this  that  I should  say  anything 
more  than  I have  already  said  in  this  Discourse.  For  if 
they  are  capable  of  making  greater  advancement  than  I 
have  made,  they  will  much  more  be  able  of  themselves 
to  discover  all  that  I believe  myself  to  have  found;  since 
as  I have  never  examined  aught  except  in  order,  it  is 
certain  that  what  yet  remains  to  be  discovered  is  in  itself 
more  difficult  and  recondite,  than  that  which  I have 
already  been  enabled  to  find,  and  the  gratification  would 
be  much  less  in  learning  it  from  me  than  in  discovering 
it  for  themselves.  Besides  this,  the  habit  which  they 
will  acquire,  by  seeking  first  what  is  easy,  and  then 
passing  onward  slowly  and  step  by  step  to  the  more 
difficult,  will  benefit  them  more  than  all  my  instructions. 
Thus,  in  my  own  case,  I am  persuaded  that  if  I had  been 
taught  from  my  youth  all  the  truths  of  which  I have 
since  sought  out  demonstrations,  and  had  thus  learned 
them  without  labor,  I should  never,  perhaps,  have  known 
any  beyond  these ; at  least,  I should  never  have  acquired 
the  habit  and  the  facility  which  I think  I possess  in 
always  discovering  new  truths  in  proportion  as  I give 
myself  to  the  search.  And,  in  a single  word,  if  there  is 
any  work  in  the  world  which  cannot  be  so  well  finished 
by  another  as  by  him  who  has  commenced  it,  it  is  that 
at  which  I labor. 

It  is  true,  indeed,  as  regards  the  experiments  which 
may  conduce  to  this  end,  that  one  man  is  not  equal  to 
the  task  of  making  them  all;  but  yet  he  can  advanta- 
geously avail  himself,  in  this  work,  of  no  hands  besides 
his  own,  unless  those  of  artisans,  or  parties  of  the  same 
kind,  whom  he  could  pay,  and  whom  the  hope  of  gain 
( a means  of  great  efficacy ) might  stimulate  to  accuracy 
in  the  performance  of  what  was  prescribed  to  them. 
For  as  to  those  who,  through  curiosity  or  a desire  of 
learning,  of  their  own  accord,  perhaps,  offer  him  their 
services,  besides  that  in  general  their  promises  exceed 
their  performance,  and  that  they  sketch  out  fine  designs 


300 


DISCOURSE 


of  which  not  one  is  ever  realized,  they  will,  without  doubt, 
expect  to  be  compensated  for  their  trouble  by  the  expli- 
cation of  some  difficulties,  or,  at  least,  by  compliments 
and  useless  speeches,  in  which  he  cannot  spend  any  por- 
tion of  his  time  without  loss  to  himself.  And  as  for  the 
experiments  that  others  have  already  made,  even  although 
these  parties  should  be  willing  of  themselves  to  com- 
municate them  to  him  (which  is  what  those  who  esteem 
them  secrets  will  never  do),  the  experiments  are,  for  the 
most  part,  accompanied  with  so  many  circumstances  and 
superfluous  elements,  as  to  make  it  exceedingly  difficult 
to  disentangle  the  truth  from  its  adjuncts;  besides,  he 
will  find  almost  all  of  them  so  ill  described,  or  even  so 
false  ( because  those  who  made  them  have  wished  to  see 
in  them  only  such  facts  as  they  deemed  comformable  to 
their  principles),  that,  if  in  the  entire  number  there 
should  be  some  of  a nature  suited  to  his  purpose,  still 
their  value  could  not  compensate  for  the  time  that  would 
be  necessary  to  make  the  selection.  So  that  if  there 
existed  anyone  whom  we  assuredly  knew  to  be  capable  of 
making  discoveries  of  the  highest  kind,  and  of  the  great- 
est possible  utility  to  the  public;  and  if  all  other  men 
were  therefore  eager  by  all  means  to  assist  him  in  suc- 
cessfully prosecuting  his  designs,  I do  not  see  that  they 
could  do  aught  else  for  him  beyond  contributing  to  defray 
the  expenses  of  the  experiments  that  might  be  necessary; 
and  for  the  rest,  prevent  his  being  deprived  of  his  leisure 
by  the  unseasonable  interruptions  of  anyone.  But  be- 
sides that  I neither  have  so  high  an  opinion  of  myself 
as  to  be  willing  to  make  promise  of  anything  extraor- 
dinary, nor  feed  on  imaginations  so  vain  as  to  fancy  that 
the  public  must  be  much  interested  in  my  designs;  I do 
not,  on  the  other  hand,  own  a soul  so  mean  as  to  be 
capable  of  accepting  from  anyone  a favor  of  which  it 
could  be  supposed  that  I was  unworthy. 

These  considerations  taken  together  were  the  reason 
why,  for  the  last  three  years,  I have  been  unwilling  to 
publish  the  Treatise  I had  on  hand,  and  why  I even  re- 
solved to  give  publicity  during  my  life  to  no  other  that 
was  so  general,  or  by  which  the  principles  of  my  Physics 
might  be  understood.  But  since  then,  two  other  reasons 
have  come  into  operation  that  have  determined  me  here 
to  subjoin  some  particular  specimens,  and  give  the  pub- 


ON  METHOD 


201 


lie  some  account  of  my  doings  and  designs.  Of  these 
considerations,  the  first  is,  that  if  I failed  to  do  so,  many 
who  were  cognizant  of  my  previous  intention  to  publish 
some  writings,  might  have  imagined  that  the  reasons 
which  induced  me  to  refrain  from  so  doing,  were  less  to 
my  credit  than  they  really  are;  for  although  I am  not 
immoderately  desirous  of  glory,  or  even,  if  I may  ven- 
ture so  to  say,  although  I am  averse  from  it  in  so  far  as 
I deem  it  hostile  to  repose  which  I hold  in  greater  ac- 
count than  aught  else,  yet,  at  the  same  time,  I have 
never  sought  to  conceal  my  actions  as  if  they  were 
crimes,  nor  made  use  of  many  precautions  that  I might 
remain  unknown;  and  this  partly  because  I should  have 
thought  such  a course  of  conduct  a wrong  against  my- 
self, and  partly  because  it  would  have  occasioned  me 
some  sort  of  uneasiness  which  would  again  have  been 
contrary  to  the  perfect  mental  tranquillity  which  I court. 
And  forasmuch  as,  while  thus  indifferent  to  the  thought 
alike  of  fame  or  forgetfulness,  I have  yet  been  unable  to 
prevent  myself  from  acquiring  some  sort  of  reputation,  I 
have  thought  it  incumbent  on  me  to  do  my  best  to  save 
myself  at  least  from  being  ill-spoken  of.  The  other  rea- 
son that  has  determined  me  to  commit  to  writing  these 
specimens  of  philosophy  is,  that  I am  becoming  daily 
more  and  more  alive  to  the  delay  which  my  design  of 
self-instruction  suffers,  for  want  of  the  infinity  of  ex- 
periments I require,  and  which  it  is  impossible  for  me 
to  make  without  the  assistance  of  others:  and,  without 
flattering  myself  so  much  as  to  expect  the  public  to  take 
a large  share  in  my  interests,  I am  yet  unwilling  to  be 
found  so  far  wanting  in  the  duty  I owe  to  myself,  as  to 
give  occasion  to  those  who  shall  survive  me  to  make  it 
matter  of  reproach  against  me  some  day,  that  I might 
have  left  them  many  things  in  a much  more  perfect  state 
than  I had  done,  had  I not  too  much  neglected  to  make 
them  aware  of  the  ways  in  which  they  could  have  pro- 
moted the  accomplishment  of  my  designs. 

And  I thought  that  it  was  easy  for  me  to  select  some  mat- 
ters which  should  neither  be  obnoxious  to  much  contro- 
versy, nor  should  compel  me  to  expound  more  of  my 
principles  than  I desired,  and  which  should  yet  be  suffi- 
cient clearly  to  exhibit  what  I can  or  cannot  accomplish 
in  the  Sciences.  Whether  or  not  I have  succeeded  in 


202 


DISCOURSE 


this  it  is  not  for  me  to  say;  and  I do  not  wish  to  fore- 
stall the  judgments  of  others  by  speaking  myself  of  my 
writings;  but  it  will  gratify  me  if  they  be  examined, 
and,  to  afford  the  greater  inducement  to  this,  I request 
all  who  may  have  any  objections  to  make  to  them, to  take 
the  trouble  of  forwarding  these  to  my  publisher,  who 
will  give  me  notice  of  them,  that  I may  endeavor  to  sub- 
join at  the  same  time  my  reply;  and  in  this  way  readers 
seeing  both  at  once  will  more  easily  determine  where  the 
truth  lies:  for  I do  not  engage  in  any  case  to  make 
prolix  replies,  but  only  with  perfect  frankness  to  avow 
my  errors  if  I am  convinced  of  them,  or  if  I cannot  per- 
ceive them,  simply  to  state  what  I think  is  required  for 
defense  of  the  matters  I have  written,  adding  thereto  no 
explication  of  any  new  matter  that  it  may  not  be  neces- 
sary to  pass  without  end  from  one  thing  to  another. 

If  some  of  the  matters  of  which  I have  spoken  in  the 
beginning  of  the  Dioptrics  and  Meteorics  should  offend 
at  first  sight,  because  I call  them  hypotheses  and  seem 
indifferent  about  giving  proof  of  them,  I request  a 
patient  and  attentive  reading  of  the  whole,  from  which 
I hope  those  hesitating  will  derive  satisfaction;  for  it 
appears  to  me  that  the  reasonings  are  so  mutually  con- 
nected in  these  Treatises,  that,  as  the  last  are  demon- 
strated by  the  first  which  are  their  causes,  the  first  are 
in  their  turn  demonstrated  by  the  last  which  are  their 
effects.  Nor  must  it  be  imagined  that  I here  commit 
the  fallacy  which  the  logicians  call  a circle;  for  since 
experience  renders  the  majority  of  these  effects  most 
certain,  the  causes  from  which  I deduce  them  do  not 
serve  so  much  to  establish  their  reality  as  to  explain 
their  existence ; but  on  the  contrary,  the  reality  of  the 
causes  is  established  by  the  reality  of  the  effects.  Nor 
have  I called  them  hypotheses  with  any  other  end  in 
view  except  that  it  may  be  known  that  I think  I am 
able  to  deduce  them  from  those  first  truths  which  I 
have  already  expounded;  and  yet  that  I have  expressly 
determined  not  to  do  so,  to  prevent  a certain  class  of 
minds  from  thence  taking  occasion  to  build  some  ex- 
travagant Philosophy  upon  what  they  may  take  to  be 
my  principles,  and  my  being  blamed  for  it.  I refer  U. 
those  who  imagine  that  they  can  master  in  a day  all 
that  another  has  taken  twenty  years  to  think  out,  as 


ON  METHOD 


203 


soon  as  he  has  spoken  two  or  three  words  to  them  on 
the  subject;  or  who  are  the  more  liable  to  error  and  the 
less  capable  of  perceiving  truth  in  very  proportion  as 
they  are  more  subtle  and  lively.  As  to  the  opinions 
which  are  truly  and  wholly  mine,  I offer  no  apology  for 
them  as  new,  persuaded  as  I am  that  if  their  reasons  be 
well  considered  they  will  be  found  to  be  so  simple  and 
so  conformed  to  common  sense  as  to  appear  less  extraor- 
dinary and  less  paradoxical  than  any  others  which  can 
be  held  on  the  same  subjects;  nor  do  I even  boast  of  being 
the  earliest  discoverer  of  any  of  them,  but  only  of  hav- 
ing adopted  them,  neither  because  they  had  nor  because 
they  had  not  been  held  by  others,  but  solely  because 
Reason  has  convinced  me  of  their  truth. 

Though  artisans  may  not  be  able  at  once  to  execute 
the  invention  which  is  explained  in  the  Dioptrics,  I do 
not  think  that  any  one  on  that  account  is  entitled  to 
condemn  it;  for  since  address  and  practice  are  required 
in  order  so  to  make  and  adjust  the  machines  described 
by  me  as  not  to  overlook  the  smallest  particular,  I 
should  not  be  less  astonished  if  they  succeeded  on  the 
first  attempt  than  if  a person  were  in  one  day  to  become 
an  accomplished  performer  on  the  guitar,  by  merely 
having  excellent  sheets  of  music  set  up  before  him.  And 
if  I write  in  French,  which  is  the  language  of  my  coun- 
try, in  preference  to  Latin,  which  is  that  of  my  precep- 
tors, it  is  because  I expect  that  those  who  make  use 
of  their  unprejudiced  natural  Reason  will  be  better 
judges  of  my  opinions  than  those  who  give  heed  to  the 
writings  of  the  ancients  only;  and  as  for  those  who  unite 
good  sense  with  habits  of  study,  whom  alone  I desire  for 
judges,  they  will  not,  I feel  assured,  be  so  partial  to 
Latin  as  to  refuse  to  listen  to  my  reasonings  merely 
because  I expound  them  in  the  vulgar  Tongue. 

In  conclusion,  I am  unwilling  here  to  say  anything 
very  specific  of  the  progress  which  I expect  to  make  for 
the  future  in  the  Sciences,  or  to  bind  myself  to  the  public 
by  any  promise  which  I am  not  certain  of  being  able  to 
fulfil;  but  this  only  will  I say,  that  I have  resolved  to 
devote  what  time  I may  still  have  to  live  to  no  other 
occupation  than  that  of  endeavoring  to  acquire  some 
knowledge  of  Nature,  which  shall  be  of  such  a kind  as 
to  enable  us  therefrom  to  deduce  rules  in  Medicine  of 


204 


DISCOURSE  ON  METHOD 


greater  certainty  than  those  at  present  in  use;  and  that 
my  inclination  is  so  much  opposed  to  all  other  pursuits, 
especially  to  such  as  cannot  be  useful  to  some  without 
being  hurtful  to  others,  that  if,  by  any  circumstances,  I 
had  been  constrained  to  engage  in  such,  I do  not  believe 
that  I should  have  been  able  to  succeed.  Of  this  I here 
make  a public  declaration,  though  well  aware  that  it  can- 
not serve  to  procure  for  me  any  consideration  in  the 
world,  which,  however,  I do  not  in  the  least  affect;  and 
I shall  always  hold  myself  more  obliged  to  those  through 
whose  favor  I am  permitted  to  enjoy  my  retirement 
without  interruption  than  to  any  who  might  offer  me  the 
highest  earthly  preferments. 


THE  MEDITATIONS 


OF 


DESCARTES 


TRANSLATED  FROM  THE  LATIN  AND  COLLATED 
WITH  THE  FRENCH 


TO 


THE  VERY  SAGE  AND  ILLUSTRIOUS 

THE 

DEAN  AND  DOCTORS  OF  THE  SACRED 
FACULTY  OF  THEOLOGY  OF  PARIS. 


Gentlemen: — 

The  motive  which  impels  me  to  present  this  Treatise  to 
you  is  so  reasonable,  and  when  you  shall  learn  its  design. 
I am  confident  that  you  also  will  consider  that  there  is 
ground  so  valid  for  your  taking  it  under  your  protection, 
that  I can  in  no  way  better  recommend  it  to  you  than  by 
briefly  stating  the  end  which  I proposed  to  myself  in  it. 
I have  always  been  of  opinion  that  the  two  questions  re- 
specting God  and  the  Soul,  were  the  chief  of  those  that 
ought  to  be  determined  by  help  of  Philosophy  rather  than 
of  Theology;  for  although  to  us,  the  faithful,  it  be  suffi- 
cient to  hold  as  matters  of  faith,  that  the  human  soul  does 
not  perish  with  the  body,  and  that  God  exists,  it  yet 
assuredly  seems  impossible  ever  to  persuade  infidels  of  the 
reality  of  any  religion,  or  almost  even  any  moral  virtue, 
unless,  first  of  all,  those  two  things  be  proved  to  them  by 
natural  reason.  And  since  in  this  life  there  are  frequently 
greater  rewards  held  out  to  vice  than  to  virtue,  few  would 
prefer  the  right  to  the  useful,  if  they  were  restrained 
neither  by  the  fear  of  God  nor  the  expectation  of  another 
life;  and  although  it  is  quite  true  that  the  existence  of 
God  is  to  be  believed  since  it  is  taught  in  the  sacred 
Scriptures,  and  that,  on  the  other  hand,  the  sacred  Scrip- 
tures are  to  be  believed  because  they  come  from  God  (for 
since  faith  is  a gift  of  God,  the  same  Being  who  bestows 
grace  to  enable  us  to  believe  other  things,  can  likewise 
impart  of  it  to  enable  us  to  believe  his  own  existence), 
(206) 


DEDICATION 


207 


nevertheless,  this  cannot  be  submitted  to  infidels,  who 
would  consider  that  the  reasoning  proceeded  in  a circle. 
And,  indeed,  I have  observed  that  you,  with  all  the  other 
theologians,  not  only  affirmed  the  sufficiency  of  natural 
reason  for  the  proof  of  the  existence  of  God,  but  also,  that 
it  may  be  inferred  from  sacred  Scripture,  that  the  knowl- 
edge of  God  is  much  clearer  than  of  many  created  things, 
and  that  it  is  really  so  easy  of  acquisition  as  to  leave  those 
who  do  not  possess  it  blame-worthy.  This  is  manifest 
from  these  words  of  the  Book  of  Wisdom,  chap,  xiii.,  where 
it  is  said,  Howbeit  they  are  not  to  be  excused;  for  if 

THEIR  UNDERSTANDING  WAS  SO  GREAT  THAT  THEY  COULD 
DISCERN  THE  WORLD  AND  THE  CREATURES,  WHY  DID  THEY 

not  rather  find  out  the  Lord  thereof  ? And  in  Ro- 
mans, chap,  i.,  it  is  said  that  they  are  without  excuse;  and 
again,  in  the  same  place,  by  these  words,  That  which  may 
be  known  of  God  is  manifest  in  them  — we  seem  to  be 
admonished  that  all  which  can  be  known  of  God  may  be 
made  manifest  by  reasons  obtained  from  no  other  source 
than  the  inspection  of  our  own  minds.  I have,  therefore, 
thought  that  it  would  not  be  unbecoming  in  me  to  inquire 
how  and  by  what  way,  without  going  out  of  ourselves, 
God  may  be  more  easily  and  certainly  known  than  the 
things  of  the  world. 

And  as  regards  the  Soul,  although  many  have  judged 
that  its  nature  could  not  be  easily  discovered,  and  some 
have  even  ventured  to  say  that  human  reason  led  to  the 
conclusion  that  it  perished  with  the  body,  and  that  the 
contrary  opinion  could  be  held  through  faith  alone ; never- 
theless, since  the  Lateran  Council,  held  under  Leo  X.  (in 
session  viii.),  condemns  these,  and  expressly  enjoins  Chris- 
tian philosophers  to  refute  their  arguments,  and  establish 
the  truth  according  to  their  ability,  I have  ventured  to 
attempt  it  in  this  work.  Moreover,  I am  aware  that  most 
of  the  irreligious  deny  the  existence  of  God,  and  the 
distinctness  of  the  human  soul  from  the  body,  for  no 
other  reason  than  because  these  points,  as  they  allege, 
have  never  as  yet  been  demonstrated.  Now,  although  I 
am  by  no  means  of  their  opinion,  but,  on  the  contrary, 
hold  that  almost  all  the  proofs  which  have  been  adduced 
on  these  questions  by  great  men,  possess,  when  rightly 
understood,  the  force  of  demonstrations,  and  that  it  is 
next  to  impossible  to  discover  new,  yet  there  is,  I 


208 


DEDICATION 


apprehend,  no  more  useful  service  to  be  performed  in 
Philosophy,  than  if  some  one  were,  once  for  all,  carefully 
to  seek  out  the  best  of  these  reasons,  and  expound  them 
so  accurately  and  clearly  that,  for  the  future,  it  might 
be  manifest  to  all  that  they  are  real  demonstrations. 
And  finally,  since  many  persons  were  greatly  desirous  of 
this,  who  knew  that  I had  cultivated  a certain  Method 
of  resolving  all  kinds  of  difficulties  in  the  sciences,  which 
is  not  indeed  new  (there  being  nothing  older  than  truth), 
but  of  which  they  were  aware  I had  made  successful  use 
in  other  instances,  I judged  it  to  be  my  duty  to  make 
trial  of  it  also  on  the  present  matter. 

Now  the  sum  of  what  I have  been  able  to  accomplish 
on  the  subject  is  contained  in  this  Treatise.  Not  that  I 
here  essayed  to  collect  all  the  diverse  reasons  which 
might  be  adduced  as  proofs  on  this  subject,  for  this  does 
not  seem  to  be  necessary,  unless  on  matters  where  no 
one  proof  of  adequate  certainty  is  to  be  had ; but  I 
treated  the  first  and  chief  alone  in  such  a manner  that  I 
should  venture  now  to  propose  them  as  demonstrations  of 
the  highest  certainty  and  evidence.  And  I will  also  add 
that  they  are  such  as  to  lead  me  to  think  that  there  is 
no  way  open  to  the  mind  of  man  by  which  proofs  supe- 
rior to  them  can  ever  be  discovered ; for  the  importance  of 
the  subject,  and  the  glory  of  God,  to  which  all  this  re- 
lates, constrain  me  to  speak  here  somewhat  more  freely 
of  myself  than  I have  been  accustomed  to  do.  Never- 
theless, whatever  certitude  and  evidence  I may  find  in 
these  demonstrations,  I cannot  therefore  persuade  myself 
that  they  are  level  to  the  comprehension  of  all.  But  just 
fcs  in  geometry  there  are  many  of  the  demonstrations  of 
Archimedes,  Apollonius,  Pappus,  and  others,  which, 
though  received  by  all  as  evident  even  and  certain  (be- 
cause indeed  they  manifestly  contain  nothing  which,  con- 
sidered by  itself,  it  is  not  very  easy  to  understand,  and 
no  consequents  that  are  inaccurately  related  to  their  ante- 
cedents), are  nevertheless  understood  by  a very  limited 
number,  because  they  are  somewhat  long,  and  demand 
the  whole  attention  of  the  reader:  so  in  the  same  way, 
although  I consider  the  demonstrations  of  which  I here 
make  use,  to  be  equal  or  even  superior  to  the  geometrical 
in  certitude  and  evidence,  I am  afraid,  nevertheless,  that 
they  will  not  be  adequately  understood  by  many,  as  well 


DEDICATION 


209 


because  they  also  are  somewhat  long  and  involved,  as 
chiefly  because  they  require  the  mind  to  be  entirely  free 
from  prejudice,  and  able  with  ease  to  detach  itself  from 
the  commerce  of  the  senses.  And,  to  speak  the  truth, 
the  ability  for  metaphysical  studies  is  less  general  than 
for  those  of  geometry.  And,  besides,  there  is  still  this 
difference  that,  as  in  geometry,  all  are  persuaded  that 
nothing  is  usually  advanced  of  which  there  is  not  a cer- 
tain demonstration,  those  but  partially  versed  in  it  err 
more  frequently  in  assenting  to  what  is  false,  from  a 
desire  of  seeming  to  understand  it,  than  in  denying  what 
is  true.  In  philosophy,  on  the  other  hand,  where  it  is 
believed  that  all  is  doubtful,  few  sincerely  give  them- 
selves to  the  search  after  truth,  and  by  far  the  greater 
number  seek  the  reputation  of  bold  thinkers  by  au- 
daciously impugning  such  truths  as  are  of  the  greatest 
moment. 

Hence  it  is  that,  whatever  force  my  reasonings  may  pos- 
sess, yet  because  they  belong  to  philosophy,  I do  not  expect 
they  will  have  much  effect  on  the  minds  of  men,  unless 
you  extend  to  them  your  patronage  and  approval.  But 
since  your  Faculty  is  held  in  so  great  esteem  by  all, 
and  since  the  name  of  Sorbonne  is  of  such  authority, 
that  not  only  in  matters  of  faith,  but  even  also  in  what 
regards  human  philosophy,  has  the  judgment  of  no  other 
society,  after  the  Sacred  Councils,  received  so  great  defer- 
ence, it  being  the  universal  conviction  that  it  is  impos- 
sible elsewhere  to  find  greater  perspicacity  and  solidity, 
or  greater  wisdom  and  integrity  in  giving  judgment,  I 
doubt  not,  if  you  but  condescend  to  pay  so  much  regard  to 
this  Treatise  as  to  be  willing,  in  the  first  place,  to  correct 
it  ( for  mindful  not  only  of  my  humanity,  but  chiefly  also 
of  my  ignorance,  I do  not  affirm  that  it  is  free  from 
errors) ; in  the  second  place,  to  supply  what  is  wanting 
in  it,  to  perfect  what  is  incomplete,  and  to  give  more 
ample  illustration  where  it  is  demanded,  or  at  least  to 
indicate  these  defects  to  myself  that  I may  endeavor  to 
remedy  them ; and,  finally,  when  the  reasonings  contained 
in  it,  by  which  the  existence  of  God  and  the  distinction 
of  the  human  soul  from  the  body  are  established,  shall 
have  been  brought  to  such  degree  of  perspicuity  as  to 
be  esteemed  exact  demonstrations,  of  which  I am  assured 
they  admit,  if  you  condescend  to  accord  them  the  authority 
14 


210 


DEDICATION 


of  your  approbation,  and  render  a public  testimony  of 
tbeir  truth  and  certainty,  I doubt  not,  I say,  but  that 
henceforward  all  the  errors  which  have  ever  been  enter- 
tained on  these  questions  will  very  soon  be  effaced  from 
the  minds  of  men.  For  truth  itself  will  readily  lead  the 
remainder  of  the  ingenious  and  the  learned  to  subscribe 
to  your  judgment;  and  your  authority  will  cause  the 
atheists,  who  are  in  general  sciolists  rather  than  ingenious 
or  learned,  to  lay  aside  the  spirit  of  contradiction,  and 
lead  them,  perhaps,  to  do  battle  in  their  own  persons  for 
reasonings  which  they  find  considered  demonstrations  by 
all  men  of  genius,  lest  they  should  seem  not  to  understand 
them;  and,  finally,  the  rest  of  mankind  will  readily  trust 
to  so  many  testimonies,  and  there  will  no  longer  be 
any  one  who  will  venture  to  doubt  either  the  existence  of 
God  or  the  real  distinction  of  mind  and  body.  It  is  for 
you,  in  your  singular  wisdom,  to  judge  of  the  importance 
of  the  establishment  of  such  beliefs,  [who  are  cognizant 
of  the  disorders  which  doubt  of  these  truths  produces].* 
But  it  would  not  here  become  me  to  commend  at  greater 
length  the  cause  of  God  and  of  religion  to  you,  who  have 
always  proved  the  strongest  support  of  the  Catholic 
Church. 

* The  square  brackets,  here  and  throughout  the  volume,  are  used 
to  mark  additions  to  the  original  of  the  revised  French  translation. 


PREFACE  TO  THE  READER. 


I have  already  slightly  touched  upon  the  questions 
respecting  the  existence  of  God  and  the  nature  of  the 
human  soul,  in  the  <(  Discourse  on  the  Method  of  rightly 
conducting  the  Reason,  and  seeking  Truth  in  the  Sci- 
ences,” published  in  French  in  the  year  1637;  not  how- 
ever, with  the  design  of  there  treating  of  them  fully, 
but  only,  as  it  were,  in  passing,  that  I might  learn  from 
the  judgment  of  my  readers  in  what  way  I should  after- 
ward handle  them;  for  these  questions  appeared  to  me 
to  be  of  such  moment  as  to  be  worthy  of  being  considered 
more  than  once,  and  the  path  which  I follow  in  discuss- 
ing them  is  so  little  trodden,  and  so  remote  from  the 
ordinary  route  that  I thought  it  would  not  be  expedient 
to  illustrate  it  at  greater  length  in  French,  and  in  a dis- 
course that  might  be  read  by  all,  lest  even  the  more 
feeble  minds  should  believe  that  this  path  might  be  en- 
tered upon  by  them. 

But,  as  in  the  <(  Discourse  on  Method,  ” I had  requested 
all  who  might  find  aught  meriting  censure  in  my  writ- 
ings, to  do  me  the  favor  of  pointing  it  out  to  me,  I may 
state  that  no  objections  worthy  of  remark  have  been  al- 
leged against  what  I then  said  on  these  questions  except 
two,  to  which  I will  here  briefly  reply,  before  undertaking 
their  more  detailed  discussion. 

The  first  objection  is  that  though,  while  the  human 
mind  reflects  on  itself,  it  does  not  perceive  that  it  is  any 
other  than  a thinking  thing,  it  does  not  follow  that  its 
nature  or  essence  consists  only  in  its  being  a thing  which 
thinks;  so  that  the  word  only  shall  exclude  all  other 
things  which  might  also  perhaps  be  said  to  pertain  to  the 
nature  of  the  mind. 

To  this  objection  I reply,  that  it  was  not  my  intention 
in  that  place  to  exclude  these  according  to  the  order  of 

(211) 


212 


PREFACE  TO  THE  READER 


truth  in  the  matter  (of  which  I did  not  then  treat),  but 
only  according  to  the  order  of  thought  (perception); 
so  that  my  meaning  was,  that  I clearly  apprehended 
nothing,  so  far  as  I was  conscious,  as  belonging  to  my 
essence,  except  that  I was  a thinking  thing,  or  a thing 
possessing  in  itself  the  faculty  of  thinking.  But  I will 
show  hereafter  how,  from  the  consciousness  that  nothing 
besides  thinking  belongs  to  the  essence  of  the  mind,  it 
follows  that  nothing  else  does  in  truth  belong  to  it. 

The  second  objection  is  that  it  does  not  follow,  from 
my  possessing  the  idea  of  a thing  more  perfect  than  I 
am,  that  the  idea  itself  is  more  perfect  than  myself,  and 
much  less  that  what  is  represented  by  the  idea  exists. 

But  I reply  that  in  the  term  idea  there  is  here  some- 
thing equivocal;  for  it  may  be  taken  either  materially 
for  an  act  of  the  understanding,  and  in  this  sense  it  can- 
not be  said  to  be  more  perfect  than  I,  or  objectively,  for 
the  thing  represented  by  that  act,  which,  although  it  be 
not  supposed  to  exist  out  of  my  understanding,  may, 
nevertheless,  be  more  perfect  than  myself,  by  reason  of 
its  essence.  But,  in  the  sequel  of  this  treatise  I will 
show  more  amply  how,  from  my  possessing  the  idea  of  a 
thing  more  perfect  than  myself,  it  follows  that  this  thing 
really  exists. 

Besides  these  two  objections,  I have  seen,  indeed,  two 
treatises  of  sufficient  length  relating  to  the  present  matter. 
In  these,  however,  my  conclusions,  much  more  than  my 
premises,  were  impugned,  and  that  by  arguments  borrowed 
from  the  common  places  of  the  atheists.  But,  as  argu- 
ments of  this  sort  can  make  no  impression  on  the  minds 
of  those  who  shall  rightly  understand  my  reasonings,  and 
as  the  judgments  of  many  are  so  irrational  and  weak  that 
they  are  persuaded  rather  by  the  opinions  on  a subject 
that  are  first  presented  to  them,  however  false  and  opposed 
to  reason  they  may  be,  than  by  a true  and  solid,  but 
subsequently  received,  refutation  of  them,  I am  unwilling 
here  to  reply  to  these  strictures  from  a dread  of  being, 
in  the  first  instance,  obliged  to  state  them. 

I will  only  say,  in  general,  that  all  which  the  atheists 
commonly  allege  in  favor  of  the  non-existence  of  God, 
arises  continually  from  one  or  other  of  these  two  things, 
namely,  either  the  ascription  of  human  affections  to  Deity, 


PREFACE  TO  THE  READER 


213 


or  the  undue  attribution  to  our  minds  of  so  much  vigor 
and  wisdom  that  we  may  essay  to  determine  and  compre- 
hend both  what  God  can  and  ought  to  do;  hence  all  that 
is  alleged  by  them  will  occasion  us  no  difficulty,  provided 
only  we  keep  in  remembrance  that  our  minds  must  be 
considered  finite,  while  Deity  is  incomprehensible  and 
infinite. 

Now  that  I have  once,  in  some  measure,  made  proof 
of  the  opinions  of  men  regarding  my  work,  I again 
undertake  to  treat  of  God  and  the  human  soul,  and  at 
the  same  time  to  discuss  the  principles  of  the  entire 
First  Philosophy,  without,  however,  expecting  any  com- 
mendation from  the  crowd  for  my  endeavors,  or  a wide 
circle  of  readers.  On  the  contrary,  I would  advise  none 
to  read  this  work,  unless  such  as  are  able  and  willing  to 
meditate  with  me  in  earnest,  to  detach  their  minds  from 
commerce  with  the  senses,  and  likewise  to  deliver  them- 
selves from  all  prejudice;  and  individuals  of  this  char- 
acter are,  I well  know,  remarkably  rare.  But  with 
regard  to  those  who,  without  caring  to  comprehend  the 
order  and  connection  of  the  reasonings,  shall  study  only 
detached  clauses  for  the  purpose  of  small  but  noisy 
criticism,  as  is  the  custom  with  many,  I may  say  that 
such  persons  will  not  profit  greatly  by  the  reading  of 
this  treatise ; and  although  perhaps  they  may  find  oppor- 
tunity for  cavilling  in  several  places,  they  will  yet  hardly 
start  any  pressing  objections,  or  such  as  shall  be  deserv- 
ing of  reply. 

But  since,  indeed,  I do  not  promise  to  satisfy  others 
on  all  these  subjects  at  first  sight,  nor  arrogate  so  much 
to  myself  as  to  believe  that  I have  been  able  to  forsee 
all  that  may  be  the  source  of  difficulty  to  each  one,  I 
shall  expound,  first  of  all,  in  the  Meditations,  those 
considerations  by  which  I feel  persuaded  that  I have 
arrived  at  a certain  and  evident  knowledge  of  truth,  in 
order  that  I may  ascertain  whether  the  reasonings  which 
have  prevailed  with  myself  will  also  be  effectual  in  con- 
vincing others.  I will  then  reply  to  the  objections  of 
some  men,  illustrious  for  their  genius  and  learning,  to 
whom  these  Meditations  were  sent  for  criticism  before 
they  were  committed  to  the  press;  for  these  objections 
are  so  numerous  and  varied  that  I venture  to  anticipate 


214 


PREFACE  TO  THE  READER 


that  nothing,  at  least  nothing  of  any  moment,  will  read- 
ily occur  to  any  mind  which  has  not  been  touched  upon 
in  them. 

Hence  it  is  that  I earnestly  entreat  my  readers  not  to 
come  to  any  judgment  on  the  questions  raised  in  the 
Meditations  until  they  have  taken  care  to  read  the  whole 
of  the  Objections,  with  the  relative  Replies. 


SYNOPSIS 


OF  THE 

SIX  FOLLOWING  MEDITATIONS. 


In  the  First  Meditation  I expound  the  grounds  on 
which  we  may  doubt  in  general  of  all  things,  and  es- 
pecially of  material  objects,  so  long  at  least,  as  we  have 
no  other  foundations  for  the  sciences  than  those  we  have 
hitherto  possessed.  Now,  although  the  utility  of  a doubt 
so  general  may  not  be  manifest  at  first  sight,  it  is  never- 
theless of  the  greatest,  since  it  delivers  us  from  all 
prejudice,  and  affords  the  easiest  pathway  by  which  the 
mind  may  withdraw  itself  from  the  senses;  and  finally 
makes  it  impossible  for  us  to  doubt  wherever  we  after- 
ward discover  truth. 

In  the  Second,  the  mind  which,  in  the  exercise  of  the 
freedom  peculiar  to  itself,  supposes  that  no  object  is,  of 
the  existence  of  which  it  has  even  the  slightest  doubt, 
finds  that,  meanwhile,  it  must  itself  exist.  And  this 
point  is  likewise  of  the  highest  moment,  for  the  mind  is 
thus  enabled  easily  to  distinguish  what  pertains  to  itself, 
that  is,  to  the  intellectual  nature,  from  what  is  to  be  re- 
ferred to  the  body.  But  since  some,  perhaps,  will  ex- 
pect, at  this  stage  of  our  progress,  a statement  of  the 
reasons  which  establish  the  doctrine  of  the  immortality 
of  the  soul,  I think  it  proper  here  to  make  such  aware, 
that  it  was  my  aim  to  write  nothing  of  which  I could 
not  give  exact  demonstration,  and  that  I therefore  felt 
myself  obliged  to  adopt  an  order  similar  to  that  in  use 
among  the  geometers,  viz,  to  premise  all  upon  which 
the  proposition  in  question  depends,  before  coming  to 
any  conclusion  respecting  it.  Now,  the  first  and  chief 
prerequisite  for  the  knowledge  of  the  immortality  of  the 
soul  is  our  being  able  to  form  the  clearest  possible  con- 

(215) 


2l6 


SYNOPSIS  OF  THE  SIX 


ception  {conceptus  — concept)  of  the  soul  itself,  and  such 
as  shall  be  absolutely  distinct  from  all  our  notions  of 
body;  and  how  this  is  to  be  accomplished  is  there 
shown.  There  is  required,  besides  this,  the  assurance 
that  all  objects  which  we  clearly  and  distinctly  think  are 
true  (really  exist)  in  that  very  mode  in  which  we  think 
them;  and  this  could  not  be  established  previously  to 
the  Fourth  Meditation.  Farther,  it  is  necessary,  for  the 
same  purpose,  that  we  possess  a distinct  conception  of 
corporeal  nature,  which  is  given  partly  in  the  Second  and 
partly  in  the  Fifth  and  Sixth  Meditations.  And,  finally, 
on  these  grounds,  we  are  necessitated  to  conclude,  that 
all  those  objects  which  are  clearly  and  distinctly  con- 
ceived to  be  diverse  substances,  as  mind  and  body,  are 
substances  really  reciprocally  distinct;  and  this  inference 
is  made  in  the  Sixth  Meditation.  The  absolute  distinc- 
tion of  mind  and  body  is,  besides,  confirmed  in  this  Sec- 
ond Meditation,  by  showing  that  we  cannot  conceive 
body  unless  as  divisible ; while,  on  the  other  hand,  mind 
cannot  be  conceived  unless  as  indivisible.  For  we  are 
not  able  to  conceive  the  half  of  a mind,  as  we  can  of 
any  body,  however  small,  so  that  the  natures  of  these 
two  substances  are  to  be  held,  not  only  as  diverse,  but 
even  in  some  measure  as  contraries.  I have  not,  how- 
ever, pursued  this  discussion  further  in  the  present  trea- 
tise, as  well  for  the  reason  that  these  considerations  are 
sufficient  to  show  that  the  destruction  of  the  mind  does 
not  follow  from  the  corruption  of  the  body,  and  thus  to 
afford  to  men  the  hope  of  a future  life,  as  also  because 
the  premises  from  which  it  is  competent  for  us  to  in- 
fer the  immortality  of  the  soul,  involve  an  explication 
of  the  whole  principles  of  Physics : in  order  to  establish,  in 
the  first  place,  that  generally  all  substances,  that  is,  all 
things  which  can  exist  only  in  consequence  of  having  been 
created  by  God,  are  in  their  own  nature  incorruptible, 
and  can  never  cease  to  be,  unless  God  himself,  by  re- 
fusing his  concurrence  to  them,  reduce  them  to  nothing; 
and,  in  the  second  place,  that  body,  taken  generally,  is 
a substance,  and  therefore  can  never  perish,  but  that 
the  human  body,  in  as  far  as  it  differs  from  other  bodies, 
is  constituted  only  by  a certain  configuration  of  members, 
and  by  other  accidents  of  this  sort,  while  the  human 


FOLLOWING  MEDITATIONS 


217 


mind  is  not  made  up  of  accidents,  but  is  a pure  sub- 
stance. For  although  all  the  accidents  of  the  mind  be 
changed  — although,  for  example,  it  think  certain  things, 
will  others,  and  perceive  others,  the  mind  itself  does  not 
vary  with  these  changes;  while,  on  the  contrary,  the  hu- 
man body  is  no  longer  the  same  if  a change  take  place 
in  the  form  of  any  of  its  parts:  from  which  it  follows 
that  the  body  may,  indeed,  without  difficulty  perish,  but 
that  the  mind  is  in  its  own  nature  immortal. 

In  the  Third  Meditation,  I have  unfolded  at  sufficient 
length,  as  appears  to  me,  my  chief  argument  for  the 
existence  of  God.  But  yet,  since  I was  there  desirous  to 
avoid  the  use  of  comparisons  taken  from  material  objects, 
that  I might  withdraw,  as  far  as  possible,  the  minds  of 
my  readers  from  the  senses,  numerous  obscurities  perhaps 
remain,  which,  however,  will,  I trust,  be  afterward  entirely 
removed  in  the  Replies  to  the  Objections:  thus  among 
other  things,  it  may  be  difficult  to  understand  how  the 
idea  of  a being  absolutely  perfect,  which  is  found  in  our 
minds,  possesses  so  much  objective  reality  [2.  e. , partici- 
pates by  representation  in  so  many  degrees  of  being  and 
perfection]  that  it  must  be  held  to  arise  from  a cause 
absolutely  perfect.  This  is  illustrated  in  the  Replies  by 
the  comparison  of  a highly  perfect  machine,  the  idea  of 
which  exists  in  the  mind  of  some  workman;  for  as  the 
objective  (i.e.,  representative)  perfection  of  this  idea  must 
have  some  cause,  viz,  either  the  science  of  the  workman, 
or  of  some  other  person  from  whom  he  has  received  the 
idea,  in  the  same  way  the  idea  of  God,  which  is  found  in 
us,  demands  God  himself  for  its  cause. 

In  the  Fourth,  it  is  shown  that  all  which  we  clearly 
and  distinctly  perceive  (apprehend)  is  true;  and,  at  the 
same  time,  is  explained  wherein  consists  the  nature  of 
error,  points  that  require  to  be  known  as  well  for  con- 
firming the  preceding  truths,  as  for  the  better  under- 
standing of  those  that  are  to  follow.  But,  meanwhile,  it 
must  be  observed,  that  I do  not  at  all  there  treat  of  Sin, 
that  is,  of  error  committed  in  the  pursuit  of  good  and 
evil,  but  of  that  sort  alone  which  arises  in  the  determina- 
tion of  the  true  and  the  false.  Nor  do  I refer  to  matters 
of  faith,  or  to  the  conduct  of  life,  but  only  to  what  re- 
gards speculative  truths,  and  such  as  are  known  by  means 
of  the  natural  light  alone. 


2 1 8 


SYNOPSIS  OF  THE  MEDITATIONS 


In  the  Fifth,  besides  the  illustration  of  corporeal  nature, 
taken  generically,  a new  demonstration  is  given  of  the 
existence  of  God,  not  free,  perhaps,  any  more  than  the 
former,  from  certain  difficulties,  but  of  these  the  solution 
will  be  found  in  the  Replies  to  the  Objections.  I further 
show,  in  what  sense  it  is  true  that  the  certitude  of  geo- 
metrical demonstrations  themselves  is  dependent  on  the 
knowledge  of  God. 

Finally,  in  the  Sixth,  the  act  of  the  understanding 
( intellectio ) is  distinguished  from  that  of  the  imagination 
( imaginatio ) ; the  marks  of  this  distinction  are  described ; 
the  human  mind  is  shown  to  be  really  distinct  from  the 
body,  and,  nevertheless,  to  be  so  closely  conjoined  there- 
with, as  together  to  form,  as  it  were,  a unity.  The  whole 
of  the  errors  which  arise  from  the  senses  are  brought 
under  review,  while  the  means  of  avoiding  them  are 
pointed  out;  and,  finally,  all  the  grounds  are  adduced  from 
which  the  existence  of  material  objects  may  be  inferred; 
not,  however,  because  I deemed  them  of  great  utility  in 
establishing  what  they  prove,  viz,  that  there  is  in  reality 
a world,  that  men  are  possessed  of  bodies,  and  the  like, 
the  truth  of  which  no  one  of  sound  mind  ever  seriously 
doubted ; but  because,  from  a close  consideration  of  them, 
it  is  perceived  that  they  are  neither  so  strong  nor  clear  as 
the  reasonings  which  conduct  us  to  the  knowledge  of  our 
mind  and  of  God;  so  that  the  latter  are,  of  all  which  come 
under  human  knowledge,  the  most  certain  and  manifest  — 
a conclusion  which  it  was  my  single  aim  in  these  Medita- 
tions to  establish ; on  which  account  I here  omit  mention 
of  the  various  other  questions  which,  in  the  course  of  the 
discussion,  I had  occasion  likewise  to  consider. 


MEDITATIONS 


ON 


THE  FIRST  PHILOSOPHY 


IN  WHICH 

THE  EXISTENCE  OF  GOD,  AND  THE  REAL  DISTINCTION 
OF  MIND  AND  BODY,  ARE  DEMONSTRATED. 


MEDITATION  I. 

Of  the  Things  on  Which  We  May  Doubt. 

Several  years  have  now  elapsed  since  I first  became 
aware  that  I had  accepted,  even  from  my  youth,  many 
false  opinions  for  true,  and  that  consequently  what  I aft- 
erward based  on  such  principles  was  highly  doubtful; 
and  from  that  time  I was  convinced  of  the  necessity  of 
undertaking  once  in  my  life  to  rid  myself  of  all  the 
opinions  I had  adopted,  and  of  commencing  anew  the 
work  of  building  from  the  foundation,  if  I desired  to 
establish  a firm  and  abiding  superstructure  in  the  sciences. 
But  as  this  enterprise  appeared  to  me  to  be  one  of  great 
magnitude,  I waited  until  I had  attained  an  age  so  ma- 
ture as  to  leave  me  no  hope  that  at  any  stage  of  life 
more  advanced  I should  be  better  able  to  execute  my  de- 
sign. On  this  account,  I have  delayed  so  long  that  I 
should  henceforth  consider  I was  doing  wrong  were  I 
still  to  consume  in  deliberation  any  of  the  time  that  now 
remains  for  action.  To-day,  then,  since  I have  oppor- 
tunely freed  my  mind  from  all  cares  [and  am  happily 
disturbed  by  no  passions],  and  since  I am  in  the  secure 
possession  of  leisure  in  a peaceable  retirement,  I will  at 
length  apply  myself  earnestly  and  freely  to  the  general 

(219) 


220 


MEDITATION  I 


overthrow  of  all  my  former  opinions.  But,  to  this  end, 
it  will  not  be  necessary  for  me  to  show  that  the  whole  of 
these  are  false  — a point,  perhaps,  which  I shall  never 
reach;  but  as  even  now  my  reason  convinces  me  that  I 
ought  not  the  less  carefully  to  withhold  belief  from  what 
is  not  entirely  certain  and  indubitable,  than  from  what 
is  manifestly  false,  it  will  be  sufficient  to  justify  the  re- 
jection of  the  whole  if  I shall  find  in  each  some  ground 
for  doubt.  Nor  for  this  purpose  will  it  be  necessary  even 
to  deal  with  each  belief  individually,  which  would  be 
truly  an  endless  labor;  but,  as  the  removal  from  below 
of  the  foundation  necessarily  involves  the  downfall  of  the 
whole  edifice,  I will  at  once  approach  the  criticism  of 
the  principles  on  which  all  my  former  beliefs  rested. 

All  that  I have,  up  to  this  moment,  accepted  as  pos- 
sessed of  the  highest  truth  and  certainty,  I received 
either  from  or  through  the  senses.  I observed,  how- 
ever, that  these  sometimes  misled  us;  and  it  is  the  part 
of  prudence  not  to  place  absolute  confidence  in  that  by 
which  we  have  even  once  been  deceived. 

But  it  may  be  said,  perhaps,  that,  although  the  senses 
occasionally  mislead  us  respecting  minute  objects,  and 
such  as  are  so  far  removed  from  us  as  to  be  beyond  the 
reach  of  close  observation,  there  are  yet  many  other  of 
their  informations  (presentations),  of  the  truth  of  which 
it  is  manifestly  impossible  to  doubt;  as  for  example, 
that  I am  in  this  place,  seated  by  the  fire,  clothed  in  a 
winter  dressing  gown,  that  I hold  in  my  hands  this  piece 
of  paper,  with  other  intimations  of  the  same  nature. 
But  how  could  I deny  that  I possess  these  hands  and 
this  body,  and  withal  escape  being  classed  with  persons 
in  a state  of  insanity,  whose  brains  are  so  disordered 
and  clouded  by  dark  bilious  vapors  as  to  cause  them 
pertinaciously  to  assert  that  they  are  monarchs  when 
they  are  in  the  greatest  poverty ; or  clothed  [ in  gold  ] 
and  purple  when  destitute  of  any  covering;  or  that  their 
head  is  made  of  clay,  their  body  of  glass,  or  that  they 
are  gourds  ? I should  certainly  be  not  less  insane  than 
they,  were  I to  regulate  my  procedure  according  to 
examples  so  extravagant. 

Though  this  be  true,  I must  nevertheless  here  consider 
that  I am  a man,  and  that,  consequently,  I am  in  the 
habit  of  sleeping,  and  representing  to  myself  in  dreams 


OF  THINGS  ON  WHICH  WE  MAY  DOUBT  221 


those  same  things,  or  even  sometimes  others  less  proba- 
ble, which  the  insane  think  are  presented  to  them  in 
their  waking  moments.  How  often  have  I dreamt  that 
I was  in  these  familiar  circumstances,  that  I was  dressed, 
and  occupied  this  place  by  the  fire,  when  I was  lying 
undressed  in  bed  ? At  the  present  moment,  however,  I 
certainly  look  upon  this  paper  with  eyes  wide  awake; 
the  head  which  I now  move  is  not  asleep;  I extend  this 
hand  consciously  and  with  express  purpose,  and  I per- 
ceive it;  the  occurrences  in  sleep  are  not  so  distinct  as 
all  this.  But  I cannot  forget  that,  at  other  times  I have 
been  deceived  in  sleep  by  similar  illusions;  and,  atten- 
tively considering  those  cases,  I perceive  so  clearly  that 
there  exist  no  certain  marks  by  which  the  state  of  wak- 
ing can  ever  be  distinguished  from  sleep,  that  I feel 
greatly  astonished;  and  in  amazement  I almost  persuade 
myself  that  I am  now  dreaming. 

Let  us  suppose,  then,  that  we  are  dreaming,  and  that  all 
these  particulars  — namely,  the  opening  of  the  eyes,  the 
motion  of  the  head,  the  forth-putting  of  the  hands  — are 
merely  illusions;  and  even  that  we  really  possess  neither 
an  entire  body  nor  hands  such  as  we  see.  Nevertheless 
it  must  be  admitted  at  least  that  the  objects  which  appear 
to  us  in  sleep  are,  as  it  were,  painted  representations 
which  could  not  have  been  formed  unless  in  the  likeness 
of  realities;  and,  therefore,  that  those  general  objects,  at 
all  events,  namely,  eyes,  a head,  hands,  and  an  entire 
body,  are  not  simply  imaginary,  but  really  existent.  For, 
in  truth,  painters  themselves,  even  when  they  study  to 
represent  sirens  and  satyrs  by  forms  the  most  fantastic 
and  extraordinary,  cannot  bestow  upon  them  natures 
absolutely  new,  but  can  only  make  a certain  medley  of 
the  members  of  different  animals;  or  if  they  chance  to 
imagine  something  so  novel  that  nothing  at  all  similar 
has  ever  been  seen  before,  and  such  as  is,  therefore, 
purely  fictitious  and  absolutely  false,  it  is  at  least  certain 
that  the  colors  of  which  this  is  composed  are  real. 

And  on  the  same  principle,  although  these  general 
objects,  viz,  [a  body],  eyes,  a head,  hands,  and  the  like, 
be  imaginary,  we  are  nevertheless  absolutely  necessitated 
to  admit  the  reality  at  least  of  some  other  objects  still 
more  simple  and  universal  than  these,  of  which,  just  as 
of  certain  real  colors,  all  those  images  of  things,  whether 


222 


MEDITATION  I 


true  and  real,  or  false  and  fantastic,  that  are  found  in  our 
consciousness  ( cogitatio ),  are  formed. 

To  this  class  of  objects  seem  to  belong  corporeal  nature 
in  general  and  its  extension;  the  figure  of  extended  things, 
their  quantity  or  magnitude,  and  their  number,  as  also  the 
place  in,  and  the  time  during,  which  they  exist,  and 
other  things  of  the  same  sort.  We  will  not,  there- 
fore, perhaps  reason  illegitimately  if  we  conclude  from 
this  that  Physics,  Astronomy,  Medicine,  and  all  the  other 
sciences  that  have  for  their  end  the  consideration  of  com- 
posite objects,  are  indeed  of  a doubtful  character;  but 
that  Arithmetic,  Geometry,  and  the  other  sciences  of 
the  same  class,  which  regard  merely  the  simplest  and 
most  general  objects,  and  scarcely  inquire  whether  or 
not  these  are  really  existent,  contain  somewhat  that 
is  certain  and  indubitable:  for  whether  I am  awake 

or  dreaming,  it  remains  true  that  two  and  three  make 
five,  and  that  a square  has  but  four  sides;  nor  does 
it  seem  possible  that  truths  so  apparent  can  ever  fall 
under  a suspicion  of  falsity  [or  incertitude]. 

Nevertheless,  the  belief  that  there  is  a God  who  is 
all  powerful,  and  who  created  me,  such  as  I am,  has, 
for  a long  time,  obtained  steady  possession  of  my 
mind.  How,  then,  do  I know  that  he  has  not  arranged 
that  there  should  be  neither  earth,  nor  sky,  nor  any 
extended  thing,  nor  figure,  nor  magnitude,  nor  place, 
providing  at  the  same  time,  however,  for  [the  rise  in 
me  of  the  perceptions  of  all  these  objects,  and]  the 
persuasion  that  these  do  not  exist  otherwise  than  as 
I perceive  them  ? And  further,  as  I sometimes  think 
that  others  are  in  error  respecting  matters  of  which 
they  believe  themselves  to  possess  a perfect  knowledge, 
how  do  I know  that  I am  not  also  deceived  each  time 
I add  together  two  and  three,  or  number  the  sides  of 
a square,  or  form  some  judgment  still  more  simple,  if 
more  simple  indeed  can  be  imagined  ? But  perhaps 
Deity  has  not  been  willing  that  I should  be  thus  de- 
ceived, for  he  is  said  to  be  supremely  good.  If, 
however,  it  were  repugnant  to  the  goodness  of  Deity 
to  have  created  me  subject  to  constant  deception,  it 
would  seem  likewise  to  be  contrary  to  his  goodness  to 
allow  me  to  be  occasionally  deceived;  and  yet  it  is 
clear  that  this  is  permitted.  Some,  indeed,  might  per- 


OF  THINGS  ON  WHICH  WE  MAY  DOUBT 


223 


haps  be  found  who  would  be  disposed  rather  to  deny 
the  existence  of  a Being  so  powerful  than  to  believe 
that  there  is  nothing  certain.  But  let  us  for  the  present 
refrain  from  opposing  this  opinion,  and  grant  that  all 
which  is  here  said  of  a Deity  is  fabulous:  nevertheless, 
in  whatever  way  it  be  supposed  that  I reach  the  state 
in  which  I exist,  whether  by  fate,  or  chance,  or  by  an 
endless  series  of  antecedents  and  consequents,  or  by 
any  other  means,  it  is  clear  ( since  to  be  deceived  and 
to  err  is  a certain  defect ) that  the  probability  of  my 
being  so  imperfect  as  to  be  the  constant  victim  of 
deception,  will  be  increased  exactly  in  proportion  as  the 
power  possessed  by  the  cause,  to  which  they  assign  my 
origin,  is  lessened.  To  these  reasonings  I have  assuredly 
nothing  to  reply,  but  am  constrained  at  last  to  avow 
that  there  is  nothing  of  all  that  I formerly  believed 
to  be  true  of  which  it  is  impossible  to  doubt,  and  that 
not  through  thoughtlessness  or  levity,  but  from  cogent 
and  maturely  considered  reasons ; so  that  henceforward, 
if  I desire  to  discover  anything  certain,  I ought  not  the 
less  carefully  to  refrain  from  assenting  to  those  same 
opinions  than  to  what  might  be  shown  to  be  mani- 
festly false. 

But  it  is  not  sufficient  to  have  made  these  observations ; 
care  must  be  taken  likewise  to  keep  them  in  remem- 
brance. For  those  old  and  customary  opinions  perpetually 
recur  — long  and  familiar  usage  giving  them  the  right  of 
occupying  my  mind,  even  almost  against  my  will,  and 
subduing  my  belief;  nor  will  I lose  the  habit  of  deferring 
to  them  and  confiding  in  them  so  long  as  I shall  con- 
sider them  to  be  what  in  truth  they  are,  viz,  opinions 
to  some  extent  doubtful,  as  I have  already  shown,  but 
still  highly  probable,  and  such  as  it  is  much  more  reason- 
, able  to  believe  than  deny.  It  is  for  this  reason  I am 
persuaded  that  I shall  not  be  doing  wrong,  if,  taking  an 
opposite  judgment  of  deliberate  design,  I become  my 
own  deceiver,  by  supposing,  for  a time,  that  all  those 
opinions  are  entirely  false  and  imaginary,  until  at  length, 
having  thus  balanced  my  old  by  my  new  prejudices,  my 
judgment  shall  no  longer  be  turned  aside  by  perverted 
usage  from  the  path  that  may  conduct  to  the  perception 
of  truth.  For  I am  assured  that,  meanwhile,  there  will 
arise  neither  peril  nor  error  from  this  course,  and  that  I 


224 


MEDITATION  II 


cannot  for  the  present  yield  too  much  to  distrust,  since 
the  end  I now  seek  is  not  action  but  knowledge. 

I will  suppose,  then,  not  that  Deity,  who  is  sovereignly 
good  and  the  fountain  of  truth,  but  that  some  malignant 
demon,  who  is  at  once  exceedingly  potent  and  deceitful, 
has  employed  all  his  artifice  to  deceive  me;  I will  sup- 
pose that  the  sky,  the  air,  the  earth,  colors,  figures, 
sounds,  and  all  external  things,  are  nothing  better  than 
the  illusions  of  dreams,  by  means  of  which  this  being  has 
laid  snares  for  my  credulity;  I will  consider  myself  as 
without  hands,  eyes,  flesh,  blood,  or  any  of  the  senses, 
and  as  falsely  believing  that  I am  possessed  of  these;  I 
will  continue  resolutely  fixed  in  this  belief,  and  if  indeed 
by  this  means  it  be  not  in  my  power  to  arrive  at  the 
knowledge  of  truth,  I shall  at  least  do  what  is  in  my 
power,  viz  [suspend  my  judgment],  and  guard  with 
settled  purpose  against  giving  my  assent  to  what  is  false, 
and  being  imposed  upon  by  this  deceiver,  whatever  be 
his  power  and  artifice. 

But  this  undertaking  is  arduous,  and  a certain  indolence 
insensibly  leads  me  back  to  my  ordinary  course  of  life; 
and  just  as  the  captive,  who,  perchance,  was  enjoying  in 
his  dreams  an  imaginary  liberty,  when  he  begins  to  sus- 
pect that  it  is  but  a vision,  dreads  awakening,  and  con- 
spires with  the  agreeable  illusions  that  the  deception  may 
be  prolonged;  so  I,  of  my  own  accord,  fall  back  into  the 
train  of  my  former  beliefs,  and  fear  to  arouse  myself 
from  my  slumber,  lest  the  time  of  laborious  wakefulness 
that  would  succeed  this  quiet  rest,  in  place  of  bringing 
any  light  of  day,  should  prove  inadequate  to  dispel  the 
darkness  that  will  arise  from  the  difficulties  that  have 
now  been  raised. 


MEDITATION  II. 

Of  the  Nature  of  the  Human  Mind;  and  that  It  is 
More  Easily  Known  than  the  Body. 

The  Meditation  of  yesterday  has  filled  my  mind  with  so 
many  doubts,  that  it  is  no  longer  in  my  power  to  forget 
them.  Nor  do  I see,  meanwhile,  any  principle  on  which 
they  can  be  resolved;  and,  just  as  if  I had  fallen  all  of  a 


OF  THE  NATURE  OF  THE  HUMAN  MIND 


225 


sudden  into  very  deep  water,  I am  so  greatly  disconcerted 
as  to  be  unable  either  to  plant  my  feet  firmly  on  the 
bottom  or  sustain  myself  by  swimming  on  the  surface.  I 
will,  nevertheless,  make  an  effort,  and  try  anew  the  same 
path  on  which  I had  entered  yesterday,  that  is,  proceed 
by  casting  aside  all  that  admits  of  the  slightest  doubt,  not 
less  than  if  I had  discovered  it  to  be  absolutely  false ; and 
I will  continue  always  in  this  track  until  I shall  find 
something  that  is  certain,  or  at  least,  if  I can  do  nothing 
more,  until  I shall  know  with  certainty  that  there  is 
nothing  certain.  Archimedes,  that  he  might  transport  the 
entire  globe  from  the  place  it  occupied  to  another,  de- 
manded only  a point  that  was  firm  and  immovable;  so, 
also,  I shall  be  entitled  to  entertain  the  highest  expecta- 
tions, if  I am  fortunate  enough  to  discover  only  one  thing 
that  is  certain  and  indubitable. 

I suppose,  accordingly,  that  all  the  things  which  I see  - 
are  false  (fictitious) ; I believe  that  none  of  those  objects 
which  my  fallacious  memory  represents  ever  existed;  I 
suppose  that  I possess  no  senses;  I believe  that  body, 
figure,  extension,  motion,  and  place  are  merely  fictions  of 
my  mind.  What  is  there,  then,  that  can  be  esteemed 
true  ? Perhaps  this  only,  that  there  is  absolutely  nothing 
certain. 

But  how  do  I know  that  there  is  not  something  dif- 
ferent altogether  from  the  objects  I have  now  enumerated, 
of  which  it  is  impossible  to  entertain  the  slightest  doubt  ? 
Is  there  not  a God,  or  some  being,  by  whatever  name  I 
may  designate  him,  who  causes  these  thoughts  to  arise 
in  my  mind  ? But  why  suppose  such  a being,  for  it  may 
be  I myself  am  capable  of  producing  them  ? Am  I, 
then,  at  least  not  something  ? But  I before  denied  that 
I possessed  senses  or  a body;  I hesitate,  however,  for 
what  follows  from  that  ? Am  I so  dependent  on  the 
body  and  the  senses  that  without  these  I cannot  exist  ? 
But  I had  the  persuasion  that  there  was  absolutely  noth- 
ing in  the  world,  that  there  was  no  sky  and  no  earth, 
neither  minds  nor  bodies;  was  I not,  therefore,  at  the 
same  time,  persuaded  that  I did  not  exist  ? Far  from 
it ; I assuredly  existed,  since  I was  persuaded.  But  there 
is  I know  not  what  being,  who  is  possessed  at  once  of 
the  highest  power  and  the  deepest  cunning,  who  is  con- 
stantly employing  all  his  ingenuity  in  deceiving  me. 
15 


226 


MEDITATION  II 


Doubtless,  then,  I exist,  since  I am  deceived;  and,  let 
him  deceive  me  as  he  may,  he  can  never  bring  it  about 
that  I am  nothing,  so  long  as  I shall  be  conscious  that 
I am  something.  So  that  it  must,  in  fine,  be  maintained, 
all  things  being  maturely  and  carefully  considered,  that 
this  proposition  {pronunciation ) I am,  I exist,  is  necessarily 
true  each  time  it  is  expressed  by  me,  or  conceived  in  my  mind. 

But  I do  not  yet  know  with  sufficient  clearness  what  I 
am,  though  assured  that  I am;  and  hence,  in  the  next 
place,  I must  take  care,  lest  perchance  I inconsiderately 
substitute  some  other  object  in  room  of  what  is  properly 
myself,  and  thus  wander  from  truth,  even  in  that  knowl- 
edge ( cognition ) which  I hold  to  be  of  all  others  the  most 
certain  and  evident.  For  this  reason,  I will  now  consider 
anew  what  I formerly  believed  myself  to  be,  before  I 
entered  on  the  present  train  of  thought;  and  of  my  pre- 
vious opinion  I will  retrench  all  that  can  in  the  least  be 
invalidated  by  the  grounds  of  doubt  I have  adduced,  in 
order  that  there  may  at  length  remain  nothing  but  what 
is  certain  and  indubitable.  What  then  did  I formerly 
think  I was?  Undoubtedly  I judged  that  I was  a man. 
But  what  is  a man  ? Shall  I say  a rational  animal  ? As- 
suredly not;  for  it  would  be  necessary  forthwith  to  in- 
quire into  what  is  meant  by  animal,  and  what  by  rational, 
and  thus,  from  a single  question,  I should  insensibly 
glide  into  others,  and  these  more  difficult  than  the  first; 
nor  do  I now  possess  enough  of  leisure  to  warrant  me 
in  wasting  my  time  amid  subtleties  of  this  sort.  I prefer 
here  to  attend  to  the  thoughts  that  sprung  up  of  them- 
selves in  my  mind,  and  were  inspired  by  my  own  nature 
alone,  when  I applied  myself  to  the  consideration  of  what 
I was.  In  the  first  place,  then,  I thought  that  I possessed 
a countenance,  hands,  arms,  and  all  the  fabric  of  mem- 
bers that  appears  in  a corpse,  and  which  I called  by  the 
name  of  body.  It  further  occurred  to  me  that  I was 
nourished,  that  I walked,  perceived,  and  thought,  and  all 
those  actions  I referred  to  the  soul;  but  what  the  soul 
itself  was  I either  did  not  stay  to  consider,  or,  if  I did,  I 
imagined  that  it  was  something  extremely  rare  and  subtile, 
like  wind,  or  flame,  or  ether,  spread  through  my  grosser 
parts.  As  regarded  the  body,  I did  not  even  doubt 
of  its  nature,  but  thought  I distinctly  knew  it,  and  if  I 
had  wished  to  describe  it  according  to  the  notions  I then 


OF  THE  NATURE  OF  THE  HUMAN  MIND  227 


entertained,  I should  have  explained  myself  in  this  man- 
ner: By  body  I understand  all  that  can  be  terminated  by 
a certain  figure ; that  can  be  comprised  in  a certain  place, 
and  so  fill  a certain  space  as  therefrom  to  exclude  every 
other  body;  that  can  be  perceived  either  by  touch, 
sight,  hearing,  taste,  or  smell;  that  can  be  moved  in 
different  ways,  not  indeed  of  itself,  but  by  something 
foreign  to  it  by  which  it  is  touched  [ and  from  which 
it  receives  the  impression  ] ; for  the  power  of  self-motion, 
as  likewise  that  of  perceiving  and  thinking,  I held  as 
by  no  means  pertaining  to  the  nature  of  body;  on  the 
contrary,  I was  somewhat  astonished  to  find  such  fac- 
ulties existing  in  some  bodies. 

But  [as  to  myself,  what  can  I now  say  that  I am],  since  I 
suppose  there  exists  an  extremely  powerful,  and,  if  I may 
so  speak,  malignant  being,  whose  whole  endeavors  are 
directed  toward  deceiving  me  ? Can  I affirm  that  I pos- 
sess any  one  of  all  those  attributes  of  which  I have  lately 
spoken  as  belonging  to  the  nature  of  body  ? After 
attentively  considering  them  in  my  own  mind,  I find  none 
of  them  that  can  properly  be  said  to  belong  to  myself. 
To  recount  them  were  idle  and  tedious.  Let  us  pass,  then, 
to  the  attributes  of  the  soul.  The  first  mentioned  were 
the  powers  of  nutrition  and  walking;  but,  if  it  be  true 
that  I have  no  body,  it  is  true  likewise  that  I am  capa- 
ble neither  of  walking  nor  of  being  nourished.  Percep- 
tion is  another  attribute  of  the  soul;  but  perception  too 
is  impossible  without  the  body ; besides,  I have  frequently, 
during  sleep,  believed  that  I perceived  objects  which  I 
afterward  observed  I did  not  in  reality  perceive.  Think- 
ing is  another  attribute  of  the  soul;  and  here  I discover 
what  properly  belongs  to  myself.  This  alone  is  insepa- 
rable from  me.  I am  — I exist:  this  is  certain;  but  how 
often  ? As  often  as  I think ; for  perhaps  it  would  even 
happen,  if  I should  wholly  cease  to  think,  that  I should 
at  the  same  time  altogether  cease  to  be.  I now  admit 
nothing  that  is  not  necessarily  true.  I am  therefore,  pre- 
cisely speaking,  only  a thinking  thing,  that  is,  a mind 
( mens  sive  animus ),  understanding,  or  reason,  terms  whose 
signification  was  before  unknown  to  me.  I am,  however, 
a real  thing,  and  really  existent ; but  what  thing  ? The 
answer  was,  a thinking  thing.  The  question  now  arises, 
am  I aught  besides  ? I will  stimulate  my  imagination  with 


228 


MEDITATION  II 


a view  to  discover  whether  I am  not  still  something  more 
than  a thinking  being.  Now  it  is  plain  I am  not  the 
assemblage  of  members  called  the  human  body ; I am  not 
a thin  and  penetrating  air  diffused  through  all  these  mem- 
bers, or  wind,  or  flame,  or  vapor,  or  breath,  or  any  of 
all  the  things  I can  imagine ; for  I supposed  that  all  these 
were  not,  and,  without  changing  the  supposition,  I find 
that  I still  feel  assured  of  my  existence. 

But  it  is  true,  perhaps,  that  those  very  things  which 
I suppose  to  be  non-existent,  because  they  are  unknown 
to  me,  are  not  in  truth  different  from  myself  whom  I 
know.  This  is  a point  I cannot  determine,  and  do  not 
now  enter  into  any  dispute  regarding  it.  I can  only 
judge  of  things  that  are  known  to  me:  I am  conscious 
that  I exist,  and  I who  know  that  I exist  inquire  into 
what  I am.  It  is,  however,  perfectly  certain  that  the 
knowledge  of  my  existence,  thus  precisely  taken,  is  not 
dependent  on  things,  the  existence  of  which  is  as  yet 
unknown  to  me:  and  consequently  it  is  not  dependent 
on  any  of  the  things  I can  feign  in  imagination.  More- 
over, the  phrase  itself,  I frame  an  image  ( effingo ), 
reminds  me  of  my  error;  for  I should  in  truth  frame 
one  if  I were  to  imagine  myself  to  be  anything,  since  to 
imagine  is  nothing  more  than  to  contemplate  the  figure 
or  image  of  a corporeal  thing;  but  I already  know  that 
I exist,  and  that  it  is  possible  at  the  same  time  that  all 
those  images,  and  in  general  all  that  relates  to  the 
nature  of  body,  are  merely  dreams  [or  chimeras].  From 
this  I discover  that  it  is  not  more  reasonable  to  say,  I 
will  excite  my  imagination  that  I may  know  more  dis- 
tinctly what  I am,  than  to  express  myself  as  follows:  I 
am  now  awake,  and  perceive  something  real ; but  because 
my  preception  is  not  sufficiently  clear,  I will  of  express 
purpose  go  to  sleep  that  my  dreams  may  represent  to 
me  the  object  of  my  perception  with  more  truth  and 
clearness.  And,  therefore,  I know  that  nothing  of  all 
that  I can  embrace  in  imagination  belongs  to  the  knowl- 
edge which  I have  of  myself,  and  that  there  is  need  to 
recall  with  the  utmost  care  the  mind  from  this  mode  of 
thinking,  that  it  may  be  able  to  know  its  own  nature 
with  perfect  distinctness. 

But  what,  then,  am  I ? A thinking  thing,  it  has  been 
said.  But  what  is  a thinking  thing  ? It  is  a thing  that 


OF  THE  NATURE  OF  THE  HUMAN  MIND 


229 


doubts,  understands,  [conceives],  affirms,  denies,  wills, 
refuses;  that  imagines  also,  and  perceives.  Assuredly  it 
is  not  little,  if  all  these  properties  belong  to  my  nature. 
But  why  should  they  not  belong  to  it  ? Am  I not  that 
very  being  who  now  doubts  of  almost  everything;  who, 
for  all  that,  understands  and  conceives  certain  things; 
who  affirms  one  alone  as  true,  and  denies  the  others;  who 
desires  to  know  more  of  them,  and  does  not  wish  to  be 
deceived;  who  imagines  many  things,  sometimes  even 
despite  his  will;  and  is  likewise  percipient  of  many,  as  if 
j through  the  medium  of  the  senses.  Is  there  nothing  of 
all  this  as  true  as  that  I am,  even  although  I should  be 
always  dreaming,  and  although  he  who  gave  me  being 
employed  all  his  ingenuity  to  deceive  me?  Is  there  also 
any  one  of  these  attributes  that  can  be  properly  distin- 
guished from  my  thought,  or  that  can  be  said  to  be 
separate  from  myself  ? For  it  is  of  itself  so  evident  that 
it  is  I who  doubt,  I who  understand,  and  I who  desire, 
that  it  is  here  unnecessary  to  add  anything  by  way  of 
rendering  it  more  clear.  And  I am  as  certainly  the  same 
being  who  imagines ; for  although  it  may  be  (as  I before 
supposed)  that  nothing  I imagine  is  true,  still  the  power 
of  imagination  does  not  cease  really  to  exist  in  me  and  to 
form  part  of  my  thought.  In  fine,  I am  the  same  being 
who  perceives,  that  is,  who  apprehends  certain  objects  as 
by  the  organs  of  sense,  since,  in  truth,  I see  light,  hear 
a noise,  and  feel  heat.  But  it  will  be  said  that  these 
presentations  are  false,  and  that  I am  dreaming.  Let  it 
be  so.  At  all  events  it  is  certain  that  I seem  to  see 
light,  hear  a noise,  and  feel  heat;  this  cannot  be  false, 
and  this  is  what  in  me  is  properly  called  perceiving 
(sent ire),  which  is  nothing  else  than  thinking.  From  this 
I begin  to  know  what  I am  with  somewhat  greater  clear- 
ness and  distinctness  than  heretofore. 

But,  nevertheless,  it  still  seems  to  me,  and  I cannot 
help  believing,  that  corporeal  things,  whose  images  are 
formed  by  thought  [which  fall  under  the  senses],  and 
are  examined  by  the  same,  are  known  with  much  greater 
distinctness  than  that  I know  not  what  part  of  myself 
which  is  not  imaginable ; although,  in  truth,  it  may  seem 
strange  to  say  that  I know  and  comprehend  with  greater 
distinctness  things  whose  existence  appears  to  me  doubt- 
ful, that  are  unknown,  and  do  not  belong  to  me,  than 


230 


MEDITATION  II 


others  of  whose  reality  I am  persuaded,  that  are  known 
to  me,  and  appertain  to  my  proper  nature;  in  a word, 
than  myself.  But  I see  clearly  what  is  the  state  of  the 
case.  My  mind  is  apt  to  wander,  and  will  not  yet  sub- 
mit to  be  restrained  within  the  limits  truth.  Let  us 
therefore  leave  the  mind  to  itself  once  more,  and,  accord- 
ing to  it  every  kind  of  liberty  [permit  it  to  consider  the 
objects  that  appear  to  it  from  without],  in  order  that, 
having  afterward  withdrawn  it  from  these  gently  and 
opportunely  [ and  fixed  it  on  the  consideration  of  its 
being  and  the  properties  it  finds  in  itself],  it  may  then 
be  the  more  easily  controlled. 

Let  us  now  accordingly  consider  the  objects  that  are 
commonly  thought  to  be  [the  most  easily,  and  likewise] 
the  most  distinctly  known,  viz,  the  bodies  we  touch  and 
see;  not,  indeed,  bodies  in  general,  for  these  general 
notions  are  usually  somewhat  more  confused,  but  one 
body  in  particular.  Take,  for  example,  this  piece  of  wax; 
it  is  quite  fresh,  having  been  but  recently  taken  from 
the  beehive;  it  has  not  yet  lost  the  sweetness  of  the 
honey  it  contained;  it  still  retains  somewhat  of  the  odor 
of  the  flowers  from  which  it  was  gathered;  its  color,  fig- 
ure, size,  are  apparent  ( to  the  sight ) ; it  is  hard,  cold, 
easily  handled;  and  sounds  when  struck  upon  with  the 
finger.  In  fine,  all  that  contributes  to  make  a body  as 
distinctly  known  as  possible,  is  found  in  the  one  before 
us.  But,  while  I am  speaking,  let  it  be  placed  near  the 
fire  — what  remained  of  the  taste  exhales,  the  smell  evap- 
orates, the  color  changes,  its  figure  is  destroyed,  its  size 
increases,  it  becomes  liquid,  it  grows  hot,  it  can  hardly 
be  handled,  and,  although  struck  upon,  it  emits  no  sound. 
Does  the  same  wax  still  remain  after  this  change  ? It 
must  be  admitted  that  it  does  remain;  no  one  doubts  it, 
or  judges  otherwise.  What,  then,  was  it  I knew  with  so 
much  distinctness  in  the  piece  of  wax  ? Assuredly,  it 
could  be  nothing  of  all  that  I observed  by  means  of  the 
senses,  since  all  the  things  that  fell  under  taste,  smell, 
sight,  touch,  and  hearing  are  changed,  and  yet  the  same 
wax  remains.  It  was  perhaps  what  I now  think,  viz, 
that  this  wax  was  neither  the  sweetness  of  honey,  the 
pleasant  odor  of  flowers,  the  whiteness,  the  figure,  nor 
the  sound,  but  only  a body  that  a little  before  appeared 
to  me  conspicuous  under  these  forms,  and  which  is  now 


OF  THE  NATURE  OF  THE  HUMAN  MIND  231 


perceived  under  others.  But,  to  speak  precisely,  what  is 
it  that  I imagine  when  I think  of  it  in  this  way  ? Let 
it  be  attentively  considered,  and,  retrenching  all  that  does 
not  belong  to  the  wax,  let  us  see  what  remains.  There 
certainly  remains  nothing,  except  something  extended, 
flexible,  and  movable.  But  what  is  meant  by  flexible 
and  movable  ? Is  it  not  that  I imagine  that  the  piece  of 
wax,  being  round,  is  capable  of  becoming  square,  or  of 
passing  from  a square  into  a triangular  figure  ? Assuredly 
such  is  not  the  case,  because  I conceive  that  it  admits 
of  an  infinity  of  similar  changes;  and  I am,  moreover, 
unable  to  compass  this  infinity  by  imagination,  and  con- 
sequently this  conception  which  I have  of  the  wax  is 
not  the  product  of  the  faculty  of  imagination.  But 
what  now  is  this  extension  ? Is  it  not  also  unknown  ? for 
it  becomes  greater  when  the  wax  is  melted,  greater  when 
it  is  boiled,  and  greater  still  when  the  heat  increases; 
and  I should  not  conceive  [clearly  and]  according  to  truth, 
the  wax  as  it  is,  if  I did  not  suppose  that  the  piece  we 
are  considering  admitted  even  of  a wider  variety  of  ex- 
tension than  I ever  imagined.  I must,  therefore,  admit 
that  I cannot  even  comprehend  by  imagination  what  the 
piece  of  wax  is,  and  that  it  is  the  mind  alone  ( mens , 
Lat.,  entendement , F.)  which  perceives  it.  I speak  of  one 
piece  in  particular;  for  as  to  wax  in  general,  this  is  still 
more  evident.  But  what  is  the  piece  of  wax  that  can  be 
perceived  only  by  the  [understanding  or]  mind  ? It  is 
certainly  the  same  which  I see,  touch,  imagine;  and,  in 
fine,  it  is  the  same  which,  from  the  beginning,  I believed 
it  to  be.  But  (and  this  it  is  of  moment  to  observe)  the 
perception  of  it  is  neither  an  act  of  sight,  of  touch,  nor 
of  imagination,  and  never  was  either  of  these,  though  it 
might  formerly  seem  so,  but  is  simply  an  intuition  ( in - 
spectio)  of  the  mind,  which  may  be  imperfect  and  con- 
fused, as  it  formerly  was,  or  very  clear  and  distinct,  as 
it  is  at  present,  according  as  the  attention  is  more  or  less 
directed  to  the  elements  which  it  contains,  and  of  which 
it  is  composed. 

But,  meanwhile,  I feel  greatly  astonished  when  I ob- 
serve [the  weakness  of  my  mind,  and]  its  proneness  to 
error.  For  although,  without  at  all  giving  expression  to 
what  I think,  I consider  all  this  in  my  own  mind,  words 
yet  occasionally  impede  my  progress,  and  I am  almost 


233 


MEDITATION  II 


r 


led  into  error  by  the  terras  of  ordinary  language.  We 
say,  for  example,  that  we  see  the  same  wax  when  it  is 
before  us,  and  not  that  we  judge  it  to  be  the  same  from 
its  retaining  the  same  color  and  figure : whence  I should 
forthwith  be  disposed  to  conclude  that  the  wax  is  known 
by  the  act  of  sight,  and  not  by  the  intuition  of  the  mind 
alone,  were  it  not  for  the  analogous  instance  of  human 
beings  passing  on  in  the  street  below,  as  observed  from 
a window.  In  this  case  I do  not  fail  to  say  that  I see 
the  men  themselves,  just  as  I say  that  I see  the  wax; 
and  yet  what  do  I see  from  the  window  beyond  hats  and 
cloaks  that  might  cover  artificial  machines,  whose  mo- 
tions might  be  determined  by  springs  ? But  I judge  that 
there  are  human  beings  from  these  appearances,  and  thus 
I comprehend,  by  the  faculty  of  judgment  alone  which 
is  in  the  mind,  what  I believed  I saw  with  my 
eyes. 

The  man  who  makes  it  his  aim  to  rise  to  knowledge 
superior  to  the  common,  ought  to  be  ashamed  to  seek 
occasions  of  doubting  from  the  vulgar  forms  of  speech: 
instead,  therefore,  of  doing  this,  I shall  proceed  with 
the  matter  in  hand,  and  inquire  whether  I had  a clearer 
and  more  perfect  perception  of  the  piece  of  wax  when  I 
first  saw  it,  and  when  I thought  I knew  it  by  means  of 
the  external  sense  itself,  or,  at  all  events,  by  the  com- 
mon sense  ( sensus  communis ),  as  it  is  called,  that  is,  by 
the  imaginative  faculty;  or  whether  I rather  apprehend 
it  more  clearly  at  present,  after  having  examined  with 
greater  care,  both  what  it  is,  and  in  what  way  it  can  be 
known.  It  would  certainly  be  ridiculous  to  entertain  any 
doubt  on  this  point.  For  what,  in  that  first  perception, 
was  there  distinct  ? What  did  I perceive  which  any  ani- 
mal might  not  have  perceived  ? But  when  I distin- 
guish the  wax  from  its  exterior  forms,  and  when, 
as  if  I had  stripped  it  of  its  vestments,  I consider  it 
quite  naked,  it  is  certain,  although  some  error  may 
still  be  found  in  my  judgment,  that  I cannot,  never- 
theless, thus  apprehend  it  without  possessing  a human 
mind. 

But,  finally,  what  shall  I say  of  the  mind  itself,  that  is, 
of  myself  ? for  as  yet  I do  not  admit  that  I am  anything 
but  mind.  What,  then!  I who  seem  to  possess  so  dis- 
tinct an  apprehension  of  the  piece  of  wax,  do  I not  know 


OF  THE  NATURE  OF  THE  HUMAN  MIND  233 


myself,  both  with  greater  truth  and  certitude,  and  also 
much  more  distinctly  and  clearly  ? For  if  I judge  that 
the  wax  exists  because  I see  it,  it  assuredly  follows,  much 
more  evidently,  that  I myself  am  or  exist,  for  the  same 
reason:  for  it  is  possible  that  what  I see  may  not  in 
truth  be  wax,  and  that  I do  not  even  possess  eyes  with 
which  to  see  anything;  but  it  cannot  be  that  when  I see, 
or,  which  comes  to  the  same  thing,  when  I think  I see, 
I myself  who  think  am  nothing.  So  likewise,  if  I judge 
that  the  wax  exists  because  I touch  it,  it  will  still  also 
follow  that  I am ; and  if  I determine  that  my  imagination, 
or  any  other  cause,  whatever  it  be,  persuades  me  of  the 
existence  of  the  wax,  I will  still  draw  the  same  conclusion. 
And  what  is  here  remarked  of  the  piece  of  wax,  is  applic- 
able to  all  the  other  things  that  are  external  to  me.  And 
further,  if  the  [notion  or]  perception  of  wax  appeared  to 
me  more  precise  and  distinct,  after  that  not  only  sight 
and  touch,  but  many  other  causes  besides,  rendered  it 
manifest  to  my  apprehension,  with  how  much  greater  dis- 
tinctness must  I now  know  myself,  since  all  the  reasons 
that  contribute  to  the  knowledge  of  the  nature  of  wax, 
or  of  any  body  whatever,  manifest  still  better  the  nature 
of  my  mind  ? And  there  are  besides  so  many  other  things 
in  the  mind  itself  that  contribute  to  the  illustration  of  its 
nature,  that  those  dependent  on  the  body,  to  which  I 
have  here  referred,  scarcely  merit  to  be  taken  into 
account. 

But,  in  conclusion,  I find  I have  insensibly  reverted 
to  the  point  I desired;  for,  since  it  is  now  manifest  to 
me  that  bodies  themselves  are  not  properly  perceived  by 
the  senses  nor  by  the  faculty  of  imagination,  but  by  the 
intellect  alone ; and  since  they  are  not  perceived  because 
they  are  seen  and  touched,  but  only  because  they  are 
understood  [or  rightly  comprehended  by  thought],  I 
readily  discover  that  there  is  nothing  more  easily  or 
clearly  apprehended  than  my  own  mind.  But  because  it 
is  difficult  to  rid  one’s  self  so  promptly  of  an  opinion  to 
which  one  has  been  long  accustomed,  it  will  be  desirable 
to  tarry  for  some  time  at  this  stage,  that,  by  long  con- 
tinued meditation,  I may  more  deeply  impress  upon  my 
memory  this  new  knowledge. 


MEDITATION  III. 


Of  God:  That  He  Exists. 

I will  now  close  my  eyes,  I will  stop  my  ears,  I will 
turn  away  my  senses  from  their  objects,  I will  even  efface 
from  my  consciousness  all  the  images  of  corporeal  things; 
or  at  least,  because  this  can  hardly  be  accomplished,  I 
will  consider  them  as  empty  and  false;  and  thus,  hold- 
ing converse  only  with  myself,  and  closely  examining  my 
nature,  I will  endeavor  to  obtain  by  degrees  a more  inti- 
mate and  familiar  knowledge  of  myself.  I am  a thinking 
(conscious)  thing,  that  is,  a being  who  doubts,  affirms, 
denies,  knows  a few  objects,  and  is  ignorant  of  many, — 
[who  loves,  hates],  wills,  refuses,  who  imagines  likewise, 
and  perceives;  for,  as  I before  remarked,  although  the 
things  which  I perceive  or  imagine  are  perhaps  nothing 
at  all  apart  from  me  [and  in  themselves],  I am  never- 
theless assured  that  those  modes  of  consciousness  which 
I call  perceptions  and  imaginations,  in  as  far  only  as 
they  are  modes  of  consciousness,  exist  in  me.  And  in 
the  little  I have  said  I think  I have  summed  up  all  that 
I really  know,  or  at  least  all  that  up  to  this  time  I was 
aware  I knew.  Now,  as  I am  endeavoring  to  extend  my 
knowledge  more  widely,  I will  use  circumspection,  and 
consider  with  care  whether  I can  still  discover  in  myself 
anything  further  which  I have  not  yet  hitherto  observed. 
I am  certain  that  I am  a thinking  thing;  but  do  I not 
therefore  likewise  know  what  is  required  to  render  me 
certain  of  a truth  ? In  this  first  knowledge,  doubtless, 
there  is  nothing  that  gives  me  assurance  of  its  truth 
except  the  clear  and  distinct  perception  of  what  I affirm, 
which  would  not  indeed  be  sufficient  to  give  me  the 
assurance  that  what  I say  is  true,  if  it  could  ever  happen 
that  anything  I thus  clearly  and  distinctly  perceived 
should  prove  false;  and  accordingly  it  seems  to  me  that 
I may  now  take  as  a general  rule,  that  all  that  is  very 
clearly  and  distinctly  apprehended  (conceived)  is  true. 

Nevertheless  I before  received  and  admitted  many 
things  as  wholly  certain  and  manifest,  which  yet  I after- 
ward found  to  be  doubtful.  What,  then,  were  those  ? 
(234) 


OF  GOD:  THAT  HE  EXISTS 


235 


They  were  the  earth,  the  sky,  the  stars,  and  all  the 
other  objects  which  I was  in  the  habit  of  perceiving  by 
the  senses.  But  what  was  it  that  I clearly  [and  dis- 
tinctly] perceived  in  them  ? Nothing  more  than  that  the 
ideas  and  the  thoughts  of  those  objects  were  presented 
to  my  mind.  And  even  now  I do  not  deny  that  these 
ideas  are  found  in  my  mind.  But  there  was  yet  another 
thing  which  I affirmed,  and  which,  from  having  been 
accustomed  to  believe  it,  I thought  I clearly  perceived, 
although,  in  truth,  I did  not  perceive  it  at  all;  I mean 
the  existence  of  objects  external  to  me,  from  which  those 
ideas  proceeded,  and  to  which  they  had  a perfect  resem- 
blance; and  it  was  here  I was  mistaken,  or  if  I judged 
correctly,  this  assuredly  was  not  to  be  traced  to  any 
knowledge  I possessed  (the  force  of  my  perception,  Lat.). 

But  when  I considered  any  matter  in  arithmetic  and 
geometry,  that  was  very  simple  and  easy,  as,  for  example, 
that  two  and  three  added  together  make  five,  and  things 
of  this  sort,  did  I not  view  them  with  at  least  sufficient 
clearness  to  warrant  me  in  affirming  their  truth  ? Indeed, 
if  I afterward  judged  that  we  ought  to  doubt  of  these 
things,  it  was  for  no  other  reason  than  because  it  oc- 
curred to  me  that  a God  might  perhaps  have  given  me 
such  a nature  as  that  I should  be  deceived,  even  respect- 
ing the  matters  that  appeared  to  me  the  most  evidently 
true.  But  as  often  as  this  preconceived  opinion  of  the 
sovereign  power  of  a God  presents  itself  to  my  mind,  I 
am  constrained  to  admit  that  it  is  easy  for  him,  if  he 
wishes  it,  to  cause  me  to  err,  even  in  matters  where  I 
think  I possess  the  highest  evidence ; and,  on  the  other 
hand,  as  often  as  I direct  my  attention  to  things  which 
I think  I apprehend  with  great  clearness,  I am  so  per- 
suaded of  their  truth  that  I naturally  break  out  into 
expressions  such  as  these : Deceive  me  who  may,  no  one 

will  yet  ever  be  able  to  bring  it  about  that  I am  not,  so 
long  as  I shall  be  conscious  that  I am,  or  at  any  future 
time  cause  it  to  be  true  that  I have  never  been,  it  being 
now  true  that  I am,  or  make  two  and  three  more  or  less 
than  five,  in  supposing  which,  and  other  like  absurdities, 
I discover  a manifest  contradiction. 

And  in  truth,  as  I have  no  ground  for  believing  that 
Deity  is  deceitful,  and  as,  indeed,  I have  not  even  con- 
sidered the  reasons  by  which  the  existence  of  a Deity 


236 


MEDITATION  III 


of  any  kind  is  established,  the  ground  of  doubt  that  rests 
only  on  this  supposition  is  very  slight,  and,  so  to  speak, 
metaphysical.  But,  that  I may  be  able  wholly  to  remove 
it,  I must  inquire  whether  there  is  a God,  as  soon  as  an 
opportunity  of  doing  so  shall  present  itself ; and  if  I find 
that  there  is  a God,  I must  examine  likewise  whether  he 
can  be  a deceiver;  for,  without  the  knowledge  of  these 
two  truths,  I do  not  see  that  I can  ever  be  certain  of 
anything.  And  that  I may  be  enabled  to  examine  this 
without  interrupting  the  order  of  meditation  I have  pro- 
posed to  myself  [ which  is,  to  pass  by  degrees  from  the 
notions  that  I shall  find  first  in  my  mind  to  those  I shall 
afterward  discover  in  it],  it  is  necessary  at  this  stage 
to  divide  all  my  thoughts  into  certain  classes,  and  to  con- 
sider in  which  of  these  classes  truth  and  error  are, 
strictly  speaking,  to  be  found. 

Of  my  thoughts  some  are,  as  it  were,  images  of  things, 
and  to  these  alone  properly  belongs  the  name  idea  ; as 
when  I think  [ represent  to  my  mind  ] a man,  a chimera, 
the  sky,  an  angel  or  God.  Others,  again,  have  certain 
other  forms;  as  when  I will,  fear,  affirm,  or  deny,  I 
always,  indeed,  apprehend  something  as  the  object  of  my 
thought,  but  I also  embrace  in  thought  something  more 
than  the  representation  of  the  object;  and  of  this  class 
of  thoughts  some  are  called  volitions  or  affections,  and 
others  judgments. 

Now,  with  respect  to  ideas,  if  these  are  considered  only 
in  themselves,  and  are  not  referred  to  any  object  beyond 
them,  they  cannot,  properly  speaking,  be  false ; for, 
whether  I imagine  a goat  or  chimera,  it  is  not  less  true 
that  I imagine  the  one  than  the  other.  Nor  need  we  fear 
that  falsity  may  exist  in  the  will  or  affections;  for,  although 
I may  desire  objects  that  are  wrong,  and  even  that  never 
existed,  it  is  still  true  that  I desire  them.  There  thus 
only  remain  our  judgments,  in  which  we  must  take  dili- 
gent heed  that  we  be  not  deceived.  But  the  chief  and 
most  ordinary  error  that  arises  in  them  consists  in  judg- 
ing that  the  ideas  which  are  in  us  are  like  or  conformed 
to  the  things  that  are  external  to  us ; for  assuredly,  if  we 
but  considered  the  ideas  themselves  as  certain  modes  of 
our  thought  (consciousness),  without  referring  them  to 
anything  beyond,  they  would  hardly  afford  any  occasion 
of  error. 


OF  GOD:  THAT  HE  EXISTS 


237 


But  among  these  ideas,  some  appear  to  me  to  be  innate, 
others  adventitious,  and  others  to  be  made  by  myself 
(factitious) ; for,  as  I have  the  power  of  conceiving  what 
is  called  a thing,  or  a truth,  or  a thought,  it  seems  to  me 
that  I hold  this  power  from  no  other  source  than  my  own 
nature;  but  if  I now  hear  a noise,  if  I see  the  sun,  or  if 
I feel  heat,  I have  all  along  judged  that  these  sensations 
proceeded  from  certain  objects  existing  out  of  myself;  and, 
in  fine,  it  appears  to  me  that  sirens,  hippogryphs,  and  the 
like,  are  inventions  of  my  own  mind.  But  I may  even 
perhaps  come  to  be  of  opinion  that  all  my  ideas  are  of 
the  class  which  I call  adventitious,  or  that  they  are  al] 
innate,  or  that  they  are  all  factitious ; for  I have  not  yet 
clearly  discovered  their  true  origin;  and  what  I have  here 
principally  to  do  is  to  consider,  with  reference  to  those 
that  appear  to  come  from  certain  objects  without  me, 
what  grounds  there  are  for  thinking  them  like  these 
objects. 

The  first  of  these  grounds  is  that  it  seems  to  me  I am 
so  taught  by  nature;  and  the  second  that  I am  conscious 
that  those  ideas  are  not  dependent  on  my  will,  and  there- 
fore not  on  myself,  for  they  are  frequently  presented  to 
me  against  my  will,  as  at  present,  whether  I will  or  not, 
I feel  heat;  and  I am  thus  persuaded  that  this  sensation 
or  idea  ( sensum  vel  idecnri)  of  heat  is  produced  in  me  by 
something  different  from  myself,  viz.,  by  the  heat  of  the 
fire  by  which  I sit.  And  it  is  very  reasonable  to  suppose 
that  this  object  impresses  me  with  its  own  likeness  rather 
than  any  other  thing. 

But  I must  consider  whether  these  reasons  are  suffi- 
ciently strong  and  convincing.  When  I speak  of  being 
taught  by  nature  in  this  matter,  I understand  by  the 
word  nature  only  a certain  spontaneous  impetus  that  im- 
pels me  to  believe  in  a resemblance  between  ideas  and 
their  objects,  and  not  a natural  light  that  affords  a knowl- 
edge of  its  truth.  But  these  two  things  are  widely 
different;  for  what  the  natural  light  shows  to  be  true 
can  be  in  no  degree  doubtful,  as,  for  example,  that  I am 
because  I doubt,  and  other  truths  of  the  like  kind;  inas- 
much as  I possess  no  other  faculty  whereby  to  distinguish 
truth  from  error,  which  can  teach  me  the  falsity  of  what 
the  natural  light  declares  to  be  true,  and  which  is  equally 
trustworthy ; but  with  respect  to  [seemingly]  natural 


238 


MEDITATION  III 


impulses,  I have  observed,  when  the  question  related  to 
the  choice  of  right  or  wrong  in  action,  that  they  fre- 
quently led  me  to  take  the  worse  part ; nor  do  I see  that 
I have  any  better  ground  for  following  them  in  what 
relates  to  truth  and  error.  Then,  with  respect  to  the 
other  reason,  which  is  that  because  these  ideas  do  not 
depend  on  my  will,  they  must  arise  from  objects  existing 
without  me,  I do  not  find  it  more  convincing  than  the 
former;  for  just  as  those  natural  impulses,  of  which  I 
have  lately  spoken,  are  found  in  me,  notwithstanding  that 
they  are  not  always  in  harmony  with  my  will,  so  like- 
wise it  may  be  that  I possess  some  power  not  sufficiently 
known  to  myself  capable  of  producing  ideas  without  the 
aid  of  external  objects,  and,  indeed,  it  has  always  hitherto 
appeared  to  me  that  they  are  formed  during  sleep,  by 
some  power  of  this  nature,  without  the  aid  of  aught  ex- 
ternal. And,  in  fine,  although  I should  grant  that  they 
proceeded  from  those  objects,  it  is  not  a necessary  conse- 
quence that  they  must  be  like  them.  On  the  contrary, 
I have  observed,  in  a number  of  instances,  that  there  was 
a great  difference  between  the  object  and  its  idea.  Thus, 
for  example,  I find  in  my  mind  two  wholly  diverse  ideas 
of  the  sun;  the  one,  by  which  it  appears  to  me  extremely 
small  draws  its  origin  from  the  senses,  and  should  be 
placed  in  the  class  of  adventitious  ideas;  the  other,  by 
which  it  seems  to  be  many  times  larger  than  the  whole 
earth,  is  taken  up  on  astronomical  grounds,  that  is,  elicited 
from  certain  notions  born  with  me,  or  is  framed  by  my- 
self in  some  other  manner.  These  two  ideas  cannot  cer- 
tainly both  resemble  the  same  sun;  and  reason  teaches 
me  that  the  one  which  seems  to  have  immediately 
emanated  from  it  is  the  most  unlike.  And  these  things 
sufficiently  prove  that  hitherto  it  has  not  been  from  a 
certain  and  deliberate  judgment,  but  only  from  a sort  of 
blind  impulse,  that  I believed  in  the  existence  of  certain 
things  different  from  myself,  which,  by  the  organs  of 
sense,  or  by  whatever  other  means  it  might  be,  conveyed 
their  ideas  or  images  into  my  mind  [and  impressed  it 
with  their  likenesses]. 

But  there  is  still  another  way  of  inquiring  whether,  of 
the  objects  whose  ideas  are  in  my  mind,  there  are  any 
that  exist  out  of  me.  If  ideas  are  taken  in  so  far  only  as 
they  are  certain  modes  of  consciousness,  I do  not  remark 


OF  GOD:  THAT  HE  EXISTS 


239 


any  difference  or  inequality  among  them,  and  all  seem, 
in  the  same  manner,  to  proceed  from  myself;  but,  con- 
sidering them  as  images,  of  which  one  represents  one 
thing  and  another  a different,  it  is  evident  that  a great 
diversity  obtains  among  them.  For,  without  doubt,  those 
that  represent  substances  are  something  more,  and  con- 
tain in  themselves,  so  to  speak,  more  objective  reality 
[that  is,  participate  by  representation  in  higher  degrees 
of  being  or  perfection],  than  those  that  represent  only 
modes  or  accidents;  and  again,  the  idea  by  which  I con- 
ceive a God  [sovereign],  eternal,  infinite,  [immutable], 
all-knowing,  all-powerful,  and  the  creator  of  all  things 
that  are  out  of  himself,  this,  I say,  has  certainly  in  it 
more  objective  reality  than  those  ideas  by  which  finite 
substances  are  represented. 

Now,  it  is  manifest  by  the  natural  light  that  there  must 
at  least  be  as  much  reality  in  the  efficient  and  total  cause 
as  in  its  effect;  for  whence  can  the  effect  draw  its  reality 
if  not  from  its  cause  ? And  how  could  the  cause  communi- 
cate to  it  this  reality  unless  it  possessed  it  in  itself  ? And 
hence  it  follows,  not  only  that  what  is  cannot  be  produced 
by  what  is  not,  but  likewise  that  the  more  perfect,  in 
other  words,  that  which  contains  in  itself  more  reality, 
cannot  be  the  effect  of  the  less  perfect;  and  this  is  not 
only  evidently  true  of  those  effects,  whose  reality  is  actual 
or  formal,  but  likewise  of  ideas,  whose  reality  is  only  con- 
sidered as  objective.  Thus,  for  example,  the  stone  that 
is  not  yet  in  existence,  not  only  cannot  now  commence  to 
be,  unless  it  be  produced  by  that  which  possesses  in  itself, 
formally  or  eminently,  all  that  enters  into  its  composition, 
[in  other  words,  by  that  which  contains  in  itself  the  same 
properties  that  are  in  the  stone,  or  others  superior  to 
them];  and  heat  can  only  be  produced  in  a subject  that 
was  before  devoid  of  it,  by  a cause  that  is  of  an  order, 
[degree  or  kind],  at  least  as  perfect  as  heat;  and  so  of  the 
others.  But  further,  even  the  idea  of  the  heat,  or  of  the 
stone,  cannot  exist  in  me  unless  it  be  put  there  by  a cause 
that  contains,  at  least,  as  much  reality  as  I conceive 
existent  in  the  heat  or  in  the  stone:  for  although  that 
cause  may  not  transmit  into  my  idea  anything  of  its  actual 
or  formal  reality,  we  ought  not  on  this  account  to  imagine 
that  it  is  less  real;  but  we  ought  to  consider  that,  [as 
every  idea  is  a work  of  the  mind],  its  nature  is  such  as 


240 


MEDITATION  III 


of  itself  to  demand  no  other  formal  reality  than  that 
which  it  borrows  from  our  consciousness,  of  which  it  is 
but  a mode  [that  is,  a manner  or  way  of  thinking].  But 
in  order  that  an  idea  may  contain  this  objective  reality 
rather  than  that,  it  must  doubtless  derive  it  from  some 
cause  in  which  is  found  at  least  as  much  formal  reality 
as  the  idea  contains  of  objective;  for,  if  we  suppose  that 
there  is  found  in  an  idea  anything  which  was  not  in  its 
cause,  it  must  of  course  derive  this  from  nothing.  But, 
however  imperfect  may  be  the  mode  of  existence  by  which 
a thing  is  objectively  [or  by  representation]  in  the  under- 
standing by  its  idea,  we  certainly  cannot,  for  all  that, 
allege  that  this  mode  of  existence  is  nothing,  nor,  conse- 
quently, that  the  idea  owes  its  origin  to  nothing.  Nor 
must  it  be  imagined  that,  since  the  reality  which  is  con- 
sidered in  these  ideas  is  only  objective,  the  same  reality 
need  not  be  formally  (actually)  in  the  causes  of  these  ideas, 
but  only  objectively:  for,  just  as  the  mode  of  existing 
objectively  belongs  to  ideas  by  their  peculiar  nature,  so 
likewise  the  mode  of  existing  formally  appertains  to  the 
causes  of  these  ideas  (at  least  to  the  first  and  principal), 
by  their  peculiar  nature.  And  although  an  idea  may  give 
rise  to  another  idea,  this  regress  cannot,  nevertheless,  be 
infinite;  we  must  in  the  end  reach  a first  idea,  the  cause 
of  which  is,  as  it  were,  the  archetype  in  which  all  the 
reality  [or  perfection]  that  is  found  objectively  [or  by  rep- 
resentation] in  these  ideas  is  contained  formally  [and  in 
act].  I am  thus  clearly  taught  by  the  natural  light  that 
ideas  exist  in  me  as  pictures  or  images,  which  may,  in 
truth,  readily  fall  short  of  the  perfection  of  the  objects 
from  which  they  are  taken,  but  can  never  contain  any- 
thing greater  or  more  perfect. 

And  in  proportion  to  the  time  and  care  with  which  I 
examine  all  those  matters,  the  conviction  of  their  truth 
brightens  and  becomes  distinct.  But,  to  sum  up,  what 
conclusion  shall  I draw  from  it  all?  It  is  this:  if  the 
objective  reality  [or  perfection]  of  any  one  of  my  ideas 
be  such  as  clearly  to  convince  me,  that  this  same  reality 
exists  in  me  neither  formally  nor  eminently,  and  if,  as 
follows  from  this,  I myself  cannot  be  the  cause  of  it,  it 
is  a necessary  consequence  that  I am  not  alone  in  the 
world,  but  that  there  is  besides  myself  some  other  being 
who  exists  as  the  cause  of  that  idea;  while,  on  the  con- 


OF  GOD:  THAT  HE  EXISTS 


241 


trary,  if  no  such  idea  be  found  in  my  mind,  I shall  have 
no  sufficient  ground  of  assurance  of  the  existence  of  any 
other  being  besides  myself-  for,  after  a most  careful 
search,  I have,  up  to  this  moment,  been  unable  to  dis- 
cover any  other  ground. 

But,  among  these  my  ideas,  besides  that  which  repre- 
sents myself,  respecting  which  there  can  be  here  no  diffi- 
culty, there  is  one  that  represents  a God;  others  that 
represent  corporeal  and  inanimate  things;  others  angels; 
others  animals;  and,  finally,  there  are  some  that  repre- 
sent men  like  myself.  But  with  respect  to  the  ideas  that 
represent  other  men,  or  animals,  or  angels,  I can  easily 
suppose  that  they  were  formed  by  the  mingling  and  com- 
position of  the  other  ideas  which  I have  of  myself,  of 
corporeal  things,  and  of  God,  although  they  were,  apart 
from  myself,  neither  men,  animals,  nor  angels.  And 
with  regard  to  the  ideas  of  corporeal  objects,  I never 
discovered  in  them  anything  so  great  or  excellent  which 
I myself  did  not  appear  capable  of  originating;  for,  by 
considering  these  ideas  closely  and  scrutinizing  them 
individually,  in  the  same  way  that  I yesterday  examined 
the  idea  of  wax,  I find  that  there  is  but  little  in  them 
that  is  clearly  and  distinctly  perceived.  As  belonging  to 
the  class  of  things  that  are  clearly  apprehended,  I recog- 
nize the  following,  viz,  magnitude  or  extension  in  length, 
breadth,  and  depth ; figure,  which  results  from  the  termi- 
nation of  extension;  situation,  which  bodies  of  diverse 
figures  preserve  with  reference  to  each  other;  and  motion 
or  the  change  of  situation;  to  which  may  be  added  sub- 
stance, duration,  and  number.  But  with  regard  to  light, 
colors,  sounds,  odors,  tastes,  heat,  cold,  and  the  other 
tactile  qualities,  they  are  thought  with  so  much  obscurity 
and  confusion,  that  I cannot  determine  even  whether 
they  are  true  or  false;  in  other  words,  whether  or  not 
the  ideas  I have  of  these  qualities  are  in  truth  the  ideas 
of  real  objects.  For  although  I before  remarked  that  it 
is  only  in  judgments  that  formal  falsity,  or  falsity  prop- 
erly so  called,  can  be  met  with,  there  may  nevertheless 
be  found  in  ideas  a certain  material  falsity,  which  arises 
when  they  represent  what  is  nothing  as  if  it  were  some- 
thing. Thus,  for  example,  the  ideas  I have  of  cold  and 
heat  are  so  far  from  being  clear  and  distinct,  that  I am 
unable  from  them  to  discover  whether  cold  is  only  the 
16 


242 


MEDITATION  III 


privation  of  heat,  or  heat  the  privation  of  cold ; or  whether 
they  are  or  are  not  real  qualities:  and  since,  ideas  being 
as  it  were  images  there  can  be  none  that  does  not  seem 
to  us  to  represent  some  object,  the  idea  which  represents 
cold  as  something  real  and  positive  will  not  improperly 
be  called  false,  if  it  be  correct  to  say  that  cold  is  noth- 
ing but  a privation  of  heat;  and  so  in  other  cases.  To 
ideas  of  this  kind,  indeed,  it  is  not  necessary  that  I 
should  assign  any  author  besides  myself:  for  if  they  are 
false,  that  is,  represent  objects  that  are  unreal,  the 
natural  light  teaches  me  that  they  proceed  from  nothing; 
in  other  words,  that  they  are  in  me  only  because  some- 
thing is  wanting  to  the  perfection  of  my  nature;  but  if 
these  ideas  are  true,  yet  because  they  exhibit  to  me  so 
little  reality  that  I cannot  even  distinguish  the  object 
represented  from  non-being,  I do  not  see  why  I should 
not  be  the  author  of  them. 

With  reference  to  those  ideas  of  corporeal  things  that 
are  clear  and  distinct,  there  are  some  which,  as  appears 
to  me,  might  have  been  taken  from  the  idea  I have  of 
myself,  as  those  of  substance,  duration,  number,  and  the 
like.  For  when  I think  that  a stone  is  a substance,  or  a 
thing  capable  of  existing  of  itself,  and  that  I am  likewise 
a substance,  although  I conceive  that  I am  a thinking 
and  non-extended  thing,  and  that  the  stone,  on  the  con- 
trary, is  extended  and  unconscious,  there  being  thus  the 
greatest  diversity  between  the  two  concepts,  yet  these 
two  ideas  seem  to  have  this  in  common  that  they  both 
represent  substances.  In  the  same  way,  when  I think 
of  myself  as  now  existing,  and  recollect  besides  that  I 
existed  some  time  ago,  and  when  I am  conscious  of 
various  thoughts  whose  number  I know,  I then  acquire 
the  ideas  of  duration  and  number,  which  I can  after- 
ward transfer  to  as  many  objects  as  I please.  With 
respect  to  the  other  qualities  that  go  to  make  up  the 
ideas  of  corporeal  objects,  viz,  extension,  figure,  situation, 
and  motion,  it  is  true  that  they  are  not  formally  in  me, 
since  I am  merely  a thinking  being;  but  because  they 
are  only  certain  modes  of  substance,  and  because  I my 
self  am  a substance,  it  seems  possible  that  they  may  be 
contained  in  me  eminently. 

There  only  remains,  therefore,  the  idea  of  God,  in 
tvhich  I must  consider  whether  there  is  anything  that 


OF  GOD:  THAT  HE  EXISTS 


243 


cannot  be  supposed  to  originate  with  myself.  By  the 
name  God,  I understand  a substance  infinite,  [eternal, 
immutable],  independent,  all-knowing,  all-powerful,  and 
by  which  I myself,  and  every  other  thing  that  exists,  if 
any  such  there  be,  were  created.  But  these  properties 
are  so  great  and  excellent,  that  the  more  attentively  I 
consider  them  the  less  I feel  persuaded  that  the  idea  I 
have  of  them  owes  its  origin  to  myself  alone.  And 
thus  it  is  absolutely  necessary  to  conclude,  from  all  that 
I have  before  said,  that  God  exists:  for  though  the  idea 
of  substance  be  in  my  mind  owing  to  this,  that  I myself 
am  a substance,  I should  not,  however,  have  the  idea  of 
an  infinite  substance,  seeing  I am  a finite  being,  unless 
it  were  given  me  by  some  substance  in  reality  infinite. 

And  I must  not  imagine  that  I do  not  apprehend  the 
infinite  by  a true  idea,  but  only  by  the  negation  of  the 
finite,  in  the  same  way  that  I comprehend  repose  and 
darkness  by  the  negation  of  motion  and  light:  since,  on 
the  contrary,  I clearly  perceive  that  there  is  more  reality 
in  the  infinite  substance  than  in  the  finite,  and  therefore 
that  in  some  way  I possess  the  perception  (notion)  of  the 
infinite  before  that, of  the  finite,  that  is,  the  perception 
of  God  before  that  of  myself,  for  how  could  I know  that 
I doubt,  desire,  or  that  something  is  wanting  to  me,  and 
that  I am  not  wholly  perfect,  if  I possessed  no  idea  of 
a being  more  perfect  than  myself,  by  comparison  of 
which  I knew  the  deficiencies  of  my  nature  ? 

And  it  cannot  be  said  that  this  idea  of  God  is  perhaps 
materially  false,  and  consequently  that  it  may  have  arisen 
from  nothing  [in  other  words,  that  it  may  exist  in  me  from 
my  imperfection],  as  I before  said  of  the  ideas  of  heat 
and  cold,  and  the  like:  for,  on  the  contrary,  as  this  idea 
is  very  clear  and  distinct,  and  contains  in  itself  more 
objective  reality  than  any  other,  there  can  be  no  one  of 
itself  more  true,  or  less  open  to  the  suspicion  of  falsity. 

The  idea,  I say,  of  a being  supremely  perfect,  and 
infinite,  is  in  the  highest  degree  true ; for  although,  per- 
haps, we  may  imagine  that  such  a being  does  not  exist, 
we  cannot,  nevertheless,  suppose  that  his  idea  represents 
nothing  real,  as  I have  already  said  of  the  idea  of  cold. 
It  is  likewise  clear  and  distinct  in  the  highest  degree, 
since  whatever  the  mind  clearly  and  distinctly  conceives 
as  real  or  true,  and  as  implying  any  perfection,  is  con- 


244 


MEDITATION  III 


tained  entire  in  this  idea.  And  this  is  true,  neverthe- 
less, although  I do  not  comprehend  the  infinite,  and 
although  there  may  be  in  God  an  infinity  of  things  that 
I cannot  comprehend,  nor  perhaps  even  compass  by 
thought  in  any  way;  for  it  is  of  the  nature  of  the  infinite 
that  it  should  not  be  comprehended  by  the  finite ; and  it 
is  enough  that  I rightly  understand  this,  and  judge  that 
all  which  I clearly  perceive,  and  in  which  I know  there 
is  some  perfection,  and  perhaps  also  an  infinity  of  prop- 
erties of  which  I am  ignorant,  are  formally  or  eminently 
in  God,  in  order  that  the  idea  I have  of  him  may  be- 
come the  most  true,  clear,  and  distinct  of  all  the  ideas 
in  my  mind. 

But  perhaps  I am  something  more  than  I suppose 
myself  to  be,  and  it  may  be  that  all  those  perfections 
which  I attribute  to  God,  in  some  way  exist  potentially 
in  me,  although  they  do  not  yet  show  themselves,  and 
are  not  reduced  to  act.  Indeed,  I am  already  conscious 
that  my  knowledge  is  being  increased  [and  perfected]  by 
degrees;  and  I see  nothing  to  prevent  it  from  thus  gradu- 
ally increasing  to  infinity,  nor  any  reason  why,  after 
such  increase  and  perfection,  I should  not  be  able  thereby 
to  acquire  all  the  other  perfections  of  the  Divine  nature; 
nor,  in  fine,  why  the  power  I possess  of  acquiring  those 
perfections,  if  it  really  now  exist  in  me,  should  not  be 
sufficient  to  produce  the  ideas  of  them.  Yet,  on  looking 
more  closely  into  the  matter,  I discover  that  this  cannot 
be;  for,  in  the  first  place,  although  it  were  true  that 
my  knowledge  daily  acquired  new  degrees  of  perfection, 
and  although  there  were  potentially  in  my  nature  much 
that  was  not  as  yet  actually  in  it,  still  all  these  excel- 
lences make  not  the  slightest  approach  to  the  idea  I 
have  of  the  Deity,  in  whom  there  is  no  perfection  merely 
potentially  [but  all  actually]  existent;  for  it  is  even  an 
unmistakable  token  of  imperfection  in  my  knowledge, 
that  it  is  augmented  by  degrees.  Further,  although  my 
knowledge  increase  more  and  more,  nevertheless  I am 
not,  therefore,  induced  to  think  that  it  will  ever  be 
actually  infinite,  since ' it  can  never  reach  that  point 
beyond  which  it  shall  be  incapable  of  further  increase. 
But  I conceive  God  as  actually  infinite,  so  that  nothing 
can  be  added  to  his  perfection.  And,  in  fine,  I readily  per- 
ceive that  the  objective  being  of  an  idea  cannot  be  pro- 


OF  GOD:  THAT  HE  EXISTS 


245 


duced  by  a being  that  is  merely  potentially  existent, 
which,  properly  speaking,  is  nothing,  but  only  by  a being 
existing  formally  or  actually. 

And,  truly,  I see  nothing  in  all  that  I have  now  said 
which  it  is  not  easy  for  any  one,  who  shall  carefully  con- 
sider it,  to  discern  by  the  natural  light;  but  when  I allow 
my  attention  in  some  degree  to  relax,  the  vision  of  my 
mind  being  obscured,  and,  as  it  were,  blinded  by  the 
images  of  sensible  objects,  I do  not  readily  remember 
the  reason  why  the  idea  of  a being  more  perfect  than 
myself,  must  of  necessity  have  proceeded  from  a being 
in  reality  more  perfect.  On  this  account  I am  here 
desirous  to  inquire  further,  whether  I,  who  possess  this 
idea  of  God,  could  exist  supposing  there  were  no  God. 
And  I ask,  from  whom  could  I,  in  that  case,  derive  my 
existence  ? Perhaps  from  myself,  or  from  my  parents,  or 
from  some  other  causes  less  perfect  than  God;  for  any- 
thing more  perfect,  or  even  equal  to  God,  cannot  be 
thought  or  imagined.  But  if  I [were  independent  of 
every  other  existence,  and]  were  myself  the  author  of 
my  being,  I should  doubt  of  nothing,  I should  desire 
nothing,  and,  in  fine,  no  perfection  would  be  awanting 
to  me;  for  I should  have  bestowed  upon  myself  every 
perfection  of  which  I possess  the  idea,  and  I should  thus 
be  God.  And  it  must  not  be  imagined  that  what  is  now 
wanting  to  me  is  perhaps  of  more  difficult  acquisition 
than  that  of  which  I am  already  possessed;  for,  on  the 
contrary,  it  is  quite  manifest  that  it  was  a matter  of 
much  higher  difficulty  that  I,  a thinking  being,  should 
arise  from  nothing,  than  it  would  be  for  me  to  acquire 
the  knowledge  of  many  things  of  which  I am  ignorant, 
and  which  are  merely  the  accidents  of  a thinking  sub- 
stance ; and  certainly,  if  I possessed  of  myself  the  greater 
perfection  of  which  I have  now  spoken  [in  other  words, 
if  I were  the  author  of  my  own  existence],  I would  not 
at  least  have  denied  to  myself  things  that  may  be  more 
easily  obtained  [as  that  infinite  variety  of  knowledge  of 
which  I am  at  present  destitute],  I could  not,  indeed, 
have  denied  to  myself  any  property  which  I perceive  is 
contained  in  the  idea  of  God,  because  there  is  none  of 
these  that  seems  to  me  to  be  more  difficult  to  make  or 
acquire;  and  if  there  were  any  that  should  happen  to  be 
more  difficult  to  acquire,  they  would  certainly  appear  so 


246 


MEDITATION  III 


to  me  (supposing  that  I myself  were  the  source  of  the 
other  things  I possess),  because  I should  discover  in  them 
a limit  to  my  power.  And  though  I were  to  suppose 
that  I always  was  as  I now  am,  I should  not,  on  this 
ground,  escape  the  force  of  these  reasonings,  since  it 
would  not  follow,  even  on  this  supposition,  that  no  author 
of  my  existence  needed  to  be  sought  after.  For  the  whole 
time  of  my  life  may  be  divided  into  an  infinity  of  parts, 
each  of  which  is  in  no  way  dependent  on  any  other; 
and,  accordingly,  because  I was  in  existence  a short  time 
ago,  it  does  not  follow  that  I must  now  exist,  unless  in 
this  moment  some  cause  create  me  anew  as  it  were,  that 
is,  conserve  me.  In  truth,  it  is  perfectly  clear  and  evi- 
dent to  all  who  will  attentively  consider  the  nature  of 
duration,  that  the  conservation  of  a substance,  in  each 
moment  of  its  duration,  requires  the  same  power  and  act 
that  would  be  necessary  to  create  it,  supposing  it  were 
not  yet  in  existence;  so  that  it  is  manifestly  a dictate  of 
the  natural  light  that  conservation  and  creation  differ 
merely  in  respect  of  our  mode  of  thinking  [and  not  in 
reality].  All  that  is  here  required,  therefore,  is  that  I 
interrogate  myself  to  discover  whether  I possess  any 
power  by  means  of  which  I can  bring  it  about  that  I, 
who  now  am,  shall  exist  a moment  afterward:  for,  since 
I am  merely  a thinking  thing  (or  since,  at  least,  the 
precise  question,  in  the  meantime,  is  only  of  that  part 
of  myself),  if  such  a power  resided  in  me,  I should, 
without  doubt,  be  conscious  of  it ; but  I am  conscious  of 
no  such  power,  and  thereby  I manifestly  know  that 
I am  dependent  upon  some  being  different  from  my- 
self. 

But  perhaps  the  being  upon  whom  I am  dependent  is 
not  God,  and  I have  been  produced  either  by  my  par- 
ents, or  by  some  causes  less  perfect  than  Deity.  This 
cannot  be:  for,  as  I before  said,  it  is  perfectly  evident 
that  there  must  at  least  be  as  much  reality  in  the  cause 
as  in  its  effect;  and  accordingly,  since  I am  a thinking 
thing  and  possess  in  myself  an  idea  of  God,  whatever  in 
the  end  be  the  cause  of  my  existence,  it  must  of  neces- 
sity be  admitted  that  it  is  likewise  a thinking  being,  and 
that  it  possesses  in  itself  the  idea  and  all  the  perfections 
I attribute  to  Deity.  Then  it  may  again  be  inquired 
whether  this  cause  owes  its  origin  and  existence  to  itself, 


OF  GOD:  THAT  HE  EXISTS 


247 


or  to  some  other  cause.  For  if  it  be  self -existent,  it 
follows,  from  what  I have  before  laid  down,  that  this 
cause  is  God;  for,  since  it  possesses  the  perfection  of 
self-existence,  it  must  likewise,  without  doubt,  have  the 
power  of  actually  possessing  every  perfection  of  which  it 
has  the  idea  — in  other  words,  all  the  perfections  I con- 
ceive to  belong  to  God.  But  if  it  owe  its  existence  to 
another  cause  than  itself,  we  demand  again,  for  a similar 
reason,  whether  this  second  cause  exists  of  itself  or 
through  some  other,  until,  from  stage  to  stage,  we  at 
length  arrive  at  an  ultimate  cause,  which  will  be  God.  And 
it  is  quite  manifest  that  in  this  matter  there  can  be  no 
infinite  regress  of  causes,  seeing  that  the  question  raised 
respects  not  so  much  the  cause  which  once  produced 
me,  as  that  by  which  I am  at  this  present  moment  con- 
served. 

Nor  can  it  be  supposed  that  several  causes  concurred 
in  my  production,  and  that  from  one  I received  the  idea 
of  one  of  the  perfections  I attribute  to  Deity,  and  from 
another  the  idea  of  some  other,  and  thus  that  all  those 
perfections  are  indeed  found  somewhere  in  the  universe, 
but  do  not  all  exist  together  in  a single  being  who  is 
God;  for,  on  the  contrary,  the  unity,  the  simplicity,  or 
inseparability  of  all  the  properties  of  Deity,  is  one  of 
the  chief  perfections  I conceive  him  to  possess;  and  the 
idea  of  this  unity  of  all  the  perfections  of  Deity  could 
certainly  not  be  put  into  my  mind  by  any  cause  from 
which  I did  not  likewise  receive  the  ideas  of  all  the 
other  perfections ; for  no  power  could  enable  me  to  embrace 
them  in  an  inseparable  unity,  without  at  the  same  time 
giving  me  the  knowledge  of  what  they  were  [and  of  their 
existence  in  a particular  mode]. 

Finally,  with  regard  to  my  parents  [from  whom  it 
appears  I sprung  ],  although  all  that  I believed  respecting 
them  be  true,  it  does  not,  nevertheless,  follow  that  I am 
conserved  by  them,  or  even  that  I was  produced  by  them, 
in  so  far  as  I am  a thinking  being.  All  that,  at  the 
most,  they  contributed  to  my  origin  was  the  giving  of 
certain  dispositions  ( modifications ) to  the  matter  in  which 
I have  hitherto  judged  that  I or  my  mind,  which  is  what 
alone  I now  consider  to  be  myself,  is  inclosed;  and  thus 
there  can  here  be  no  difficulty  with  respect  to  them,  and 
it  is  absolutely  necessary  to  conclude  from  this  alone 


248 


MEDITATION  III 


that  I am,  and  possess  the  idea  of  a being-  absolutely 
perfect,  that  is,  of  God,  that  his  existence  is  most  clearly 
demonstrated. 

There  remains  only  the  inquiry  as  to  the  way  in  which 
I received  this  idea  from  God;  for  I have  not  drawn  it 
from  the  senses,  nor  is  it  even  presented  to  me  unex- 
pectedly, as  is  usual  with  the  ideas  of  sensible  objects, 
when  these  are  presented  or  appear  to  be  presented  to 
the  external  organs  of  the  senses;  it  is  not  even  a pure 
production  or  fiction  of  my  mind,  for  it  is  not  in  my 
power  to  take  from  or  add  to  it ; and  consequently  there 
but  remains  the  alternative  that  it  is  innate,  in  the  same 
way  as  is  the  idea  of  myself.  And,  in  truth,  it  is  not  to 
be  wondered  at  that  God,  at  my  creation,  implanted  this 
idea  in  me,  that  it  might  serve,  as  it  were,  for  the  mark 
of  the  workman  impressed  on  his  work;  and  it  is  not 
also  necessary  that  the  mark  should  be  something  dif- 
ferent from  the  work  itself;  but  considering  only  that 
God  is  my  creator,  it  is  highly  probable  that  he  in  some 
way  fashioned  me  after  his  own  image  and  likeness,  and 
that  I perceive  this  likeness,  in  which  is  contained  the 
idea  of  God,  by  the  same  faculty  by  which  I apprehend 
myself,  in  other  words,  when  I make  myself  the  object 
of  reflection,  I not  only  find  that  I am  an  incomplete, 
[ imperfect  ] and  dependent  being,  and  one  who  unceas- 
ingly aspires  after  something  better  and  greater  than  he 
is ; but,  at  the  same  time,  I am  assured  likewise  that  he 
upon  whom  I am  dependent  possesses  in  himself  all  the 
goods  after  which  I aspire  [ and  the  ideas  of  which  I 
find  in  my  mind],  and  that  not  merely  indefinitely  and 
potentially,  but  infinitely  and  actually,  and  that  he  is 
thus  God.  And  the  whole  force  of  the  argument  of 
which  I have  here  availed  myself  to  establish  the  exist- 
ence of  God,  consists  in  this,  that  I perceive  I could  not 
possibly  be  of  such  a nature  as  I am,  and  yet  have  in 
my  mind  the  idea  of  a God,  if  God  did  not  in  reality 
exist  — this  same  God,  I say,  whose  idea  is  in  my  mind 
— that  is,  a being  who  possesses  all  those  lofty  perfec- 
tions, of  which  the  mind  may  have  some  slight  con- 
ception, without,  however,  being  able  fully  to  compre- 
hend them,  and  who  is  wholly  superior  to  all  defect 
[ and  has  nothing  that  marks  imperfection  ] : whence  it  is 
sufficiently  manifest  that  he  cannot  be  a deceiver,  since 


OF  GOD:  THAT  HE  EXISTS 


249 


it  is  a dictate  of  the  natural  light  that  all  fraud  and 
deception  spring  from  some  defect. 

But  before  I examine  this  with  more  attention,  and 
pass  on  to  the  consideration  of  other  truths  that  may  be 
evolved  out  of  it,  I think  it  proper  to  remain  here  for 
some  time  in  the  contemplation  of  God  himself — that  I 
may  ponder  at  leisure  his  marvelous  attributes — and  be- 
hold, admire,  and  adore  the  beauty  of  this  light  so  un- 
speakably great,  as  far,  at  least,  as  the  strength  of  my 
mind,  which  is  to  some  degree  dazzled  by  the  sight,  will 
permit.  For  just  as  we  learn  by  faith  that  the  supreme 
felicity  of  another  life  consists  in  the  contemplation  of 
the  Divine  majesty  alone,  so  even  now  we  learn  from 
experience  that  a like  meditation,  though  incomparably 
less  perfect,  is  the  source  of  the  highest  satisfaction  of 
which  we  are  susceptible  in  this  life. 


MEDITATION  IV. 

Of  Truth  and  Error. 

I have  been  habituated  these  bygone  days  to  detach  my 
mind  from  the  senses,  and  I have  accurately  observed 
that  there  is  exceedingly  little  which  is  known  with  cer- 
tainty respecting  corporeal  objects,  that  we  know  much 
more  of  the  human  mind,  and  still  more  of  God  himself. 
I am  thus  able  now  without  difficulty  to  abstract  my  mind 
from  the  contemplation  of  [sensible  or]  imaginable  objects, 
and  apply  it  to  those  which,  as  disengaged  from  all  mat- 
ter, are  purely  intelligible.  And  certainly  the  idea  I have 
of  the  human  mind  in  so  far  as  it  is  a thinking  thing, 
and  not  extended  in  length,  breadth,  and  depth,  and  par- 
ticipating in  none  of  the  properties  of  body,  is  incompar- 
ably more  distinct  than  the  idea  of  any  corporeal  object; 
and  when  I consider  that  I doubt,  in  other  words,  that 
I am  an  incomplete  and  dependent  being,  the  idea  of  a 
complete  and  independent  being,  that  is  to  say  of  God, 
occurs  to  my  mind  with  so  much  clearness  and  distinct- 
ness, and  from  the  fact  alone  that  this  idea  is  found  in 
me,  or  that  I who  possess  it  exist,  the  conclusions  that 
God  exists,  and  that  my  own  existence,  each  moment  of 
its  continuance,  is  absolutely  dependent  upon  him,  are  so 


250 


MEDITATION  IV 


manifest,  as  to  lead  me  to  believe  it  impossible  that  the 
human  mind  can  know  anything  with  more  clearness  and 
certitude.  And  now  I seem  to  discover  a path  that  will 
conduct  us  from  the  contemplation  of  the  true  God,  in 
whom  are  contained  all  the  treasures  of  science  and  wis- 
dom, to  the  knowledge  of  the  other  things  in  the  uni- 
verse. 

For,  in  the  first  place,  I discover  that  it  is  impossible 
for  him  ever  to  deceive  me,  for  in  all  fraud  and  deceit 
there  is  a certain  imperfection : and  although  it  may  seem 
that  the  ability  to  deceive  is  a mark  of  subtlety  or  power, 
yet  the  will  testifies  without  doubt  of  malice  and  weak- 
ness; and  such,  accordingly,  cannot  be  found  in  God.  In 
the  next  place,  I am  conscious  that  I possess  a certain 
faculty  of  judging  [or  discerning  truth  from  error],  which 
I doubtless  received  from  God,  along  with  whatever  else 
is  mine;  and  since  it  is  impossible  that  he  should  will  to 
deceive  me,  it  is  likewise  certain  that  he  has  not  given 
me  a faculty  that  will  ever  lead  me  into  error,  provided 
I use  it  aright. 

And  there  would  remain  no  doubt  on  this  head,  did  it 
not  seem  to  follow  from  this,  that  I can  never  therefore 
be  deceived;  for  if  all  I possess  be  from  God,  and  if  he 
planted  in  me  no  faculty  that  is  deceitful,  it  seems  to 
follow  that  I can  never  fall  into  error.  Accordingly,  it 
is  true  that  when  I think  only  of  God  ( when  I look  upon 
myself  as  coming  from  God,  Fr.),  and  turn  wholly  to 
him,  I discover  [ in  myself  ] no  cause  of  error  or  falsity : 
but  immediately  thereafter,  recurring  to  myself,  experi- 
ence assures  me  that  I am  nevertheless  subject  to  in- 
numerable errors.  When  I come  to  inquire  into  the  cause 
of  these,  I observe  that  there  is  not  only  present  to  my 
consciousness  a real  and  positive  idea  of  God,  or  of  a 
being  supremely  perfect,  but  also,  so  to  speak,  a certain 
negative  idea  of  nothing,  in  other  words,  of  that  which 
is  at  an  infinite  distance  from  every  sort  of  perfection, 
and  that  I am,  as  it  were,  a mean  between  God  and 
nothing,  or  placed  in  such  a way  between  absolute  exist- 
ence and  non-existence,  that  there  is  in  truth  nothing  in 
me  to  lead  me  into  error,  in  so  far  as  an  absolute  being 
is  my  creator;  but  that,  on  the  other  hand,  as  I thus 
likewise  participate  in  some  degree  of  nothing  or  of  non- 
being,  in  other  words,  as  I am  not  myself  the  supreme 


OF  TRUTH  AND  ERROR 


251 


Being,  and  as  I am  wanting  in  many  perfections,  it  is  not 
surprising  I should  fall  into  error.  And  I hence  discern 
that  error,  so  far  as  error  is  not  something  real,  which 
depends  for  its  existence  on  God,  but  is  simply  defect; 
and  therefore  that,  in  order  to  fall  into  it,  it  is  not  neces- 
sary God  should  have  given  me  a faculty  expressly  for 
this  end,  but  that  my  being  deceived  arises  from  the 
circumstance  that  the  power  which  God  has  given  me  of 
discerning  truth  from  error  is  not  infinite. 

Nevertheless  this  is  not  yet  quite  satisfactory;  for  error 
is  not  a pure  negation,  [in  other  words,  it  is  not  the  simple 
deficiency  or  want  of  some  knowledge  which  is  not  due  ], 
but  the  privation  or  want  of  some  knowledge  which  it 
would  seem  I ought  to  possess.  But,  on  considering  the 
nature  of  God,  it  seems  impossible  that  he  should  have 
planted  in  his  creature  any  faculty  not  perfect  in  its  kind, 
that  is,  wanting  in  some  perfection  due  to  it:  for  if  it  be 
true,  that  in  proportion  to  the  skill  of  the  maker  the  per- 
fection of  his  work  is  greater,  what  thing  can  have  been 
produced  by  the  supreme  Creator  of  the  universe  that  is 
not  absolutely  perfect  in  all  its  parts  ? And  assuredly 
there  is  no  doubt  that  God  could  have  created  me  such  as 
that  I should  never  be  deceived;  it  is  certain,  likewise, 
that  he  always  wills  what  is  best:  is  it  better,  then, 
that  I should  be  capable  of  being  deceived  than  that  I 
should  not  ? 

Considering  this  more  attentively,  the  first  thing  that 
occurs  to  me  is  the  reflection  that  I must  not  be  surprised 
if  I am  not  always  capable  of  comprehending  the  reasons 
why  God  acts  as  he  does;  nor  must  I doubt  of  his  exist- 
ence because  I find,  perhaps,  that  there  are  several  other 
things  besides  the  present  respecting  which  I understand 
neither  why  nor  how  they  were  created  by  him ; for,  know- 
ing already  that  my  nature  is  extremely  weak  and  limited, 
and  that  the  nature  of  God,  on  the  other  hand,  is  immense, 
incomprehensible,  and  infinite,  I have  no  longer  any  diffi- 
culty in  discerning  that  there  is  an  infinity  of  things  in 
his  power  whose  causes  transcend  the  grasp  of  my  mind : 
and  this  consideration  alone  is  sufficient  to  convince  me, 
that  the  whole  class  of  final  causes  is  of  no  avail  in 
physical  [ or  natural  ] things ; for  it  appears  to  me  that 
I cannot,  without  exposing  myself  to  the  charge  of  temer- 
ity, seek  to  discover  the  [ impenetrable  ] ends  of  Deity. 


252 


MEDITATION  IV 


It  further  occurs  to  me  that  we  must  not  consider 
only  one  creature  apart  from  the  others,  if  we  wish  to 
determine  the  perfection  of  the  works  of  Deity,  but  gen- 
erally all  his  creatures  together;  for  the  same  object 
that  might  perhaps,  with  some  show  of  reason,  be  deemed 
highly  imperfect  if  it  were  alone  in  the  world,  may  for 
all  that  be  the  most  perfect  possible,  considered  as  form- 
ing part  of  the  whole  universe:  and  although,  as  it  was 
my  purpose  to  doubt  :>f  everything,  I only  as  yet  know 
with  certainty  my  own  existence  and  that  of  God,  never- 
theless, after  having  remarked  the  infinite  power  of 
Deity,  I cannot  deny  that  we  may  have  produced  many 
other  objects,  or  at  least  that  he  is  able  to  produce 
them,  so  that  I may  occupy  a place  in  the  relation  of  a 
part  to  the  great  whole  of  his  creatures. 

Whereupon,  regarding  myself  more  closely,  and  con- 
sidering what  my  errors  are  ( which  alone  testify  to  the 
existence  of  imperfection  in  me),  I observe  that  these 
depend  on  the  concurrence  of  two  causes,  viz,  the  faculty 
of  cognition,  which  I possess,  and  that  of  election  or  the 
power  of  free  choice, — in  other  words,  the  understanding 
and  the  will.  For  by  the  understanding  alone,  I [ neither 
affirm  nor  deny  anything  but]  merely  apprehend  ( percipio ) 
the  ideas  regarding  which  I may  form  a judgment;  nor 
is  any  error,  properly  so  called,  found  in  it  thus  accu- 
rately taken.  And  although  there  are  perhaps  innumer- 
able objects  in  the  world  of  which  I have  no  idea  in  my 
understanding,  it  cannot,  on  that  account  be  said  that  I 
am  deprived  of  those  ideas  [as  of  something  that  is  due 
to  my  nature],  but  simply  that  I do  not  possess  them, 
because,  in  truth,  there  is  no  ground  to  prove  that  Deity 
ought  to  have  endowed  me  with  a larger  faculty  of  cog- 
nition than  he  has  actually  bestowed  upon  me ; and  how- 
ever skillful  a workman  I suppose  him  to  be,  I have  no 
reason,  on  that  account,  to  think  that  it  was  obligatory 
on  him  to  give  to  each  of  his  works  all  the  perfections 
he  is  able  to  bestow  upon  some.  Nor,  moreover,  can  I 
complain  that  God  has  not  given  me  freedom  of  choice, 
or  a will  sufficiently  ample  and  perfect,  since,  in  truth, 
I am  conscious  of  will  so  ample  and  extended  as  to  be 
superior  to  all  limits.  And  what  appears  to  me  here  to 
be  highly  remarkable  is  that,  of  all  the  other  properties  I 
possess,  there  is  none  so  great  and  perfect  as  that  I do 


OF  TRUTH  AND  ERROR 


253 


not  clearly  discern  it  could  be  still  greater  and  more 
perfect. 

For,  to  take  an  example,  if  I consider  the  faculty  of 
understanding  which  I possess,  I find  that  it  is  of  very 
small  extent,  and  greatly  limited,  and  at  the  same  time 
I form  the  idea  of  another  faculty  of  the  same  nature, 
much  more  ample  and  even  infinite,  and  seeing  that  I 
can  frame  the  idea  of  it,  I discover,  from  this  circum- 
stance alone,  that  it  pertains  to  the  nature  of  God.  In 
the  same  way,  if  I examine  the  faculty  of  memory  or 
imagination,  or  any  other  faculty  I possess,  I find  none 
that  is  not  small  and  circumscribed,  and  in  God  immense 
[and  infinite].  It  is  the  faculty  of  will  only,  or  freedom 
of  choice,  which  I experience  to  be  so  great  that  I am 
unable  to  conceive  the  idea  of  another  that  shall  be  more 
ample  and  extended;  so  that  it  is  chiefly  my  will  which 
leads  me  to  discern  that  I bear  a certain  image  and 
similitude  of  Deity.  For  although  the  faculty  of  will  is 
incomparably  greater  in  God  than  in  myself,  as  well  in 
respect  of  the  knowledge  and  power  that  are  conjoined 
with  it,  and  that  render  it  stronger  and  more  efficacious, 
as  in  respect  of  the  object,  since  in  him  it  extends  to  a 
greater  number  of  things,  it  does  not,  nevertheless,  ap- 
pear to  me  greater,  considered  in  itself  formally  and 
precisely : for  the  power  of  will  consists  only  in  this,  that 
we  are  able  to  do  or  not  to  do  the  same  thing  (that  is, 
to  affirm  or  deny,  to  pursue  or  shun  it),  or  rather  in 
this  alone,  that  in  affirming  or  denying,  pursuing  or 
shunning,  what  is  proposed  to  us  by  the  understanding, 
we  so  act  that  we  are  not  conscious  of  being  determined  to 
a particular  action  by  any  external  force.  For,  to  the 
possession  of  freedom,  it  is  not  necessary  that  I be  alike 
indifferent  toward  each  of  two  contraries;  but,  on  the  con- 
trary, the  more  I am  inclined  toward  the  one,  whether 
because  I clearly  know  that  in  it  there  is  the  reason  of 
truth  and  goodness,  or  because  God  thus  internally  dis- 
poses my  thought,  the  more  freely  do  I choose  and 
embrace  it;  and  assuredly  divine  grace  and  natural  knowl- 
edge, very  far  from  diminishing  liberty,  rather  augment 
and  fortify  it.  But  the  indifference  of  which  I am  con- 
scious when  I am  not  impelled  to  one  side  rather  than  to 
another  for  want  of  a reason,  is  the  lowest  grade  of  liberty, 
and  manifests  defect  or  negation  of  knowledge  rather  than 


254 


MEDITATION  IV 


perfection  of  will ; for  if  I always  clearly  knew  what  was 
true  and  good,  I should  never  have  any  difficulty  in  detei- 
mining  what  judgment  I ought  to  come  to,  and  what 
choice  I ought  to  make,  and  I should  thus  be  entirely  free 
without  ever  being  indifferent. 

From  all  this  I discover,  however,  that  neither  the 
power  of  willing,  which  I have  received  from  God,  is  of 
itself  the  source  of  my  errors,  for  it  is  exceedingly  ample 
and  perfect  in  its  kind;  nor  even  the  power  of  under- 
standing, for  as  I conceive  no  object  unless  by  means  of 
the  faculty  that  God  bestowed  upon  me,  all  that  I con- 
ceive is  doubtless  rightly  conceived  by  me,  and  it  is  im- 
possible for  me  to  be  deceived  in  it. 

Whence,  then,  spring  my  errors  ? They  arise  from  this 
cause  alone,  that  I do  not  restrain  the  will,  which  is  of 
much  wider  range  than  the  understanding,  within  the 
same  limits,  but  extend  it  even  to  things  I do  not 
understand,  and  as  the  will  is  of  itself  indifferent 
to  such,  it  readily  falls  into  error  and  sin  by  choos- 
ing the  false  in  room  of  the  true,  and  evil  instead  of 
good. 

For  example,  when  I lately  considered  whether  aught 
really  existed  in  the  world,  and  found  that  because  I 
considered  this  question,  it  very  manifestly  followed  that 
I myself  existed,  I could  not  but  judge  that  what  I so 
clearly  conceived  was  true,  not  that  I was  forced  to  this 
judgment  by  any  external  cause,  but  simply  because 
great  clearness  of  the  understanding  was  succeeded  by 
strong  inclination  in  the  will;  and  I believed  this  the 
more  freely  and  spontaneously  in  proportion  as  I was  less 
indifferent  with  respect  to  it.  But  now  I not  only  know 
that  I exist,  in  so  far  as  I am  a thinking  being,  but 
there  is  likewise  presented  to  my  mind  a certain  idea  of 
corporeal  nature ; hence  I am  in  doubt  as  to  whether  the 
thinking  nature  which  is  in  me,  or  rather  which  I myself 
am,  is  different  from  that  corporeal  nature,  or  whether 
both  are  merely  one  and  the  same  thing,  and  I here  sup- 
pose that  I am  as  yet  ignorant  of  any  reason  that  would 
determine  me  to  adopt  the  one  belief  in  preference  to 
the  other;  whence  it  happens  that  it  is  a matter  of  per- 
fect indifference  to  me  which  of  the  two  suppositions  I 
affirm  or  deny,  or  whether  I form  any  judgment  at  all 
in  the  matter. 


OF  TRUTH  AND  ERROR 


255 


This  indifference,  moreover,  extends  not  only  to  things 
of  which  the  -understanding  has  no  knowledge  at  all,  but 
in  general  also  to  all  those  which  it  does  not  discover 
with  perfect  clearness  at  the  moment  the  will  is  deliber- 
ating upon  them;  for,  however  probable  the  conjectures 
may  be  that  dispose  me  to  form  a judgment  in  a partic- 
ular matter,  the  simple  knowledge  that  these  are  merely 
conjectures,  and  not  certain  and  indubitable  reasons,  is 
sufficient  to  lead  me  to  form  one  that  is  directly  the  op- 
posite. Of  this  I lately  had  abundant  experience,  when 
I laid  aside  as  false  all  that  I had  before  held  for  true, 
on  the  single  ground  that  I could  in  some  degree  doubt 
of  it.  But  if  I abstain  from  judging  of  a thing  when  I 
do  not  conceive  it  with  sufficient  clearness  and  distinctness, 
it  is  plain  that  I act  rightly,  and  am  not  deceived;  but 
if  I resolve  to  deny  or  affirm,  I then  do  not  make  a right 
use  of  my  free  will ; and  if  I affirm  what  is  false,  it  is  evi- 
dent that  I am  deceived;  moreover,  even  although  I 
judge  according  to  truth,  I stumble  upon  it  by  chance, 
and  do  not  therefore  escape  the  imputation  of  a wrong 
use  of  my  freedom;  for  it  is  a dictate  of  the  nat- 
ural light,  that  the  knowledge  of  the  understand- 
ing ought  always  to  precede  the  determination  of  the 
will. 

And  it  is  this  wrong  use  of  the  freedom  of  the  will 
in  which  is  found  the  privation  that  constitutes  the  form 
of  error.  Privation,  I say,  is  found  in  the  act,  in  so  far 
as  it  proceeds  from  myself,  but  it  does  not  exist  in  the 
faculty  which  I received  from  God,  nor  even  in  the  act,  in 
so  far  as  it  depends  on  him ; for  I have  assuredly  no  reason 
to  complain  that  God  has  not  given  me  a greater  power  of 
intelligence  or  more  perfect  natural  light  than  he  has 
actually  bestowed,  since  it  is  of  the  nature  of  a finite 
understanding  not  to  comprehend  many  things,  and  of  the 
nature  of  a created  understanding  to  be  finite ; on  the  con- 
trary, I have  every  reason  to  render  thanks  to  God,  who 
owed  me  nothing,  for  having  given  me  all  the  perfections 
I possess,  and  I should  be  far  from  thinking  that  he  has 
unjustly  deprived  me  of,  or  kept  back,  the  other  perfec- 
tions which  he  has  not  bestowed  upon  me. 

I have  no  reason,  moreover,  to  complain  because  he 
has  given  me  a will  more  ample  than  my  understanding, 
since,  as  the  will  consists  only  of  a single  element,  and 


256 


MEDITATION  IV 


that  indivisible,  it  would  appear  that  this  faculty  is  of 
such  a nature  that  nothing  could  be  taken  from  it  [with- 
out destroying  it] ; and  certainly,  the  more  extensive  it 
is,  the  more  cause  I have  to  thank  the  goodness  of  him 
who  bestowed  it  upon  me. 

And,  finally,  I ought  not  also  to  complain  that  God 
concurs  with  me  in  forming  the  acts  of  this  will,  or  the 
judgments  in  which  I am  deceived,  because  those  acts  are 
wholly  true  and  good,  in  so  far  as  they  depend  on  God; 
and  the  ability  to  form  them  is  a higher  degree  of  per- 
fection in  my  nature  than  the  want  of  it  would  be. 
With  regard  to  privation,  in  which  alone  consists  the 
formal  reason  of  error  and  sin,  this  does  not  require  the 
concurrence  of  Deity,  because  it  is  not  a thing  [or  exist- 
ence], and  if  it  be  referred  to  God  as  to  its  cause,  it 
ought  not  to  be  called  privation,  but  negation  [accord- 
ing to  the  signification  of  these  words  in  the  schools]. 
For  in  truth  it  is  no  imperfection  in  Deity  that  he  has 
accorded  to  me  the  power  of  giving  or  withholding  my 
assent  from  certain  things  of  which  he  has  not  put  a 
clear  and  distinct  knowledge  in  my  understanding;  but 
it  is  doubtless  an  imperfection  in  me  that  I do  not  use 
my  freedom  aright,  and  readily  give  my  judgment  on 
matters  which  I only  obscurely  and  confusedly  conceive. 

I perceive,  nevertheless,  that  it  was  easy  for  Deity  so 
to  have  constituted  me  as  that  I should  never  be  de- 
ceived, although  I still  remained  free  and  possessed  of  a 
limited  knowledge,  viz.,  by  implanting  in  my  understand- 
ing a clear  and  distinct  knowledge  of  all  the  objects 
respecting  which  I should  ever  have  to  deliberate;  or 
simply  by  so  deeply  engraving  on  my  memory  the  reso- 
lution to  judge  of  nothing  without  previously  possessing 
a clear  and  distinct  conception  of  it,  that  I should  never 
forget  it.  And  I easily  understand  that,  in  so  far  as  I 
consider  myself  as  a single  whole,  without  reference  to 
any  other  being  in  the  universe,  I should  have  been  much 
more  perfect  than  I now  am,  had  Deity  created  me 
superior  to  error;  but  I cannot  therefore  deny  that  it  is 
not  somehow  a greater  perfection  in  the  universe,  that 
certain  of  its  parts  are  not  exempt  from  defect,  as  others 
are,  than  if  they  were  all  perfectly  alike. 

And  I have  no  right  to  complain  because  God,  who 
placed  me  in  the  world,  was  not  willing  that  I should 


OF  TRUTH  AND  ERROR 


257 


sustain  that  character  which  of  all  others  is  the  chief  and 
most  perfect ; I have  even  good  reason  to  remain  satisfied 
on  the  ground  that,  if  he  has  not  given  me  the  perfection 
of  being  superior  to  error  by  the  first  means  I have 
pointed  out  above,  which  depends  on  a clear  and  evident 
knowledge  of  all  the  matters  regarding  which  I can 
deliberate,  he  has  at  least  left  in  my  power  the  other 
means,  which  is,  firmly  to  retain  the  resolution  never  to 
judge  where  the  truth  is  not  clearly  known  to  me:  for, 
although  I am  conscious  of  the  weakness  of  not  being 
able  to  keep  my  mind  continually  fixed  on  the  same 
thought,  I can  nevertheless,  by  attentive  and  oft-repeated 
meditation,  impress  it  so  strongly  on  my  memory  that  I 
shall  never  fail  to  recollect  it  as  often  as  I require  it, 
and  I can  acquire  in  this  way  the  habitude  of  not  erring; 
and  since  it  is  in  being  superior  to  error  that  the  highest 
and  chief  perfection  of  man  consists,  I deem  that  I have 
not  gained  little  by  this  day’s  meditation,  in  having  dis- 
covered the  source  of  error  and  falsity. 

And  certainly  this  can  be  no  other  than  what  I have 
now  explained:  for  as  often  as  I so  restrain  my  will 
within  the  limits  of  my  knowledge,  that  it  forms  no 
judgment  except  regarding  objects  which  are  clearly  and 
distinctly  represented  to  it  by  the  understanding,  I can 
never  be  deceived;  because  every  clear  and  distinct  con- 
ception is  doubtless  something,  and  as  such  cannot 
owe  its  origin  to  nothing,  but  must  of  necessity  have 
God  for  its  author  — God,  I say,  who,  as  supremely  per- 
fect, cannot,  without  a contradiction,  be  the  cause  of  any 
error;  and  consequently  it  is  necessary  to  conclude  that 
every  such  conception  [or  judgment]  is  true.  Nor  have 
I merely  learned  to-day  what  I must  avoid  to  escape 
error,  but  also  what  I must  do  to  arrive  at  the  knowl- 
edge of  truth;  for  I will  assuredly  reach  truth  if  I only 
fix  my  attention  sufficiently  on  all  the  things  I conceive 
perfectly,  and  separate  these  from  others  which  I con- 
ceive more  confusedly  and  obscurely;  to  which  for  the 
future  I shall  give  diligent  heed. 

17 


MEDITATION  V. 


Of  the  Essence  of  Material  Things;  and,  Again,  of 
God;  That  He  Exists. 

Several  other  questions  remain  for  consideration  re- 
specting the  attributes  of  God  and  my  own  nature  or 
mind.  I will,  however,  on  some  other  occasion  perhaps 
resume  the  investigation  of  these.  Meanwhile,  as  I have 
discovered  what  must  be  done  and  what  avoided  to  arrive 
at  the  knowledge  of  truth,  what  I have  chiefly  to  do  is 
to  essay  to  emerge  from  the  state  of  doubt  in  which  I 
have  for  some  time  been,  and  to  discover  whether  any- 
thing can  be  known  with  certainty  regarding  material 
objects.  But  before  considering  whether  such  objects  as 
I conceive  exist  without  me,  I must  examine  their  ideas 
in  so  far  as  these  are  to  be  found  in  my  consciousness, 
and  discover  which  of  them  are  distinct  and  which  con- 
fused. 

In  the  first  place,  I distinctly  imagine  that  quantity 
which  the  philosophers  commonly  call  continuous,  or  the 
extension  in  length,  breadth,  and  depth  that  is  in  this 
quantity,  or  rather  in  the  object  to  which  it  is  attributed. 
Further,  I can  enumerate  in  it  many  diverse  parts,  and 
attribute  to  each  of  these  all  sorts  of  sizes,  figures,  situ- 
ations, and  local  motions;  and,  in  fine,  I can  assign  to 
each  of  these  motions  all  degrees  of  duration.  And  I not 
only  distinctly  know  these  things  when  I thus  consider 
them  in  general ; but  besides,  by  a little  attention,  I dis- 
cover innumerable  particulars  respecting  figures,  numbers, 
motion,  and  the  like,  which  are  so  evidently  true,  and 
so  accordant  with  my  nature,  that  when  I now  discover 
them  I do  not  so  much  appear  to  learn  anything  new,  as 
to  call  to  remembrance  what  I before  knew,  or  for  the 
first  time  to  remark  what  was  before  in  my  mind,  but  to 
which  I had  not  hitherto  directed  my  attention.  And  what 
I here  find  of  most  importance  is,  that  I discover  in  my 
mind  innumerable  ideas  of  certain  objects,  which  cannot 
be  esteemed  pure  negations,  although  perhaps  they  possess 
no  reality  beyond  my  thought,  and  which  are  not  framed 
by  me  though  it  may  be  in  my  power  to  think,  or  not  to 
(258) 


OF  GOD:  THAT  HE  EXISTS 


259 


think  them,  but  possess  true  and  immutable  natures  of 
their  own.  As,  for  example,  when  I imagine  a triangle, 
although  there  is  not  perhaps  and  never  was  in  any  place 
in  the  universe  apart  from  my  thought  one  such  figure,  it 
remains  true  nevertheless  that  this  figure  possesses  a cer- 
tain determinate  nature,  form,  or  essence,  which  is  immuta- 
ble and  eternal,  and  not  framed  by  me,  nor  in  any  degree 
dependent  on  my  thought ; as  appears  from  the  circum- 
stance, that  diverse  properties  of  the  triangle  may  be 
demonstrated,  viz,  that  its  three  angles  are  equal  to  two 
right,  that  its  greatest  side  is  subtended  by  its  greatest 
angle,  and  the  like,  which,  whether  I will  or  not,  I now 
clearly  discern  to  belong  to  it,  although  before  I did  not 
at  all  think  of  them,  when,  for  the  first  time,  I imagined 
a triangle,  and  which  accordingly  cannot  be  said  to  have 
been  invented  by  me.  Nor  is  it  a valid  objection  to 
allege,  that  perhaps  this  idea  of  a triangle  came  into 
my  mind  by  the  medium  of  the  senses,  through  my  hav- 
ing  seen  bodies  of  a triangular  figure;  for  I am  able  to 
form  in  thought  an  innumerable  variety  of  figures  with 
regard  to  which  it  cannot  be  supposed  that  they  were 
ever  objects  of  sense,  and  I can  nevertheless  demonstrate 
diverse  properties  of  their  nature  no  less  than  of  the 
triangle,  all  of  which  are  assuredly  true  since  I clearly 
conceive  them:  and  they  are  therefore  something,  and 
not  mere  negations ; for  it  is  highly  evident  that  all  that 
is  true  is  something,  [truth  being  identical  with  exist- 
ence] ; and  I have  already  fully  shown  the  truth  of  the 
principle,  that  whatever  is  clearly  and  distinctly 
known  is  true.  And  although  this  had  not  been  demon- 
strated, yet  the  nature  of  my  mind  is  such  as  to  compel 
me  to  assert  to  what  I clearly  conceive  while  I so  con- 
ceive it;  and  I recollect  that  even  when  I still  strongly 
adhered  to  the  objects  of  sense,  I reckoned  among  the  num- 
ber of  the  most  certain  truths  those  I clearly  conceived 
relating  to  figures,  numbers,  and  other  matters  that  per- 
tain to  arithmetic  and  geometry,  and  in  general  to  the 
pure  mathematics. 

But  now  if  because  I can  draw  from  my  thought  the 
idea  of  an  object,  it  follows  that  all  I clearly  and  dis- 
tinctly apprehend  to  pertain  to  this  object,  does  in  truth 
belong  to  it,  may  I not  from  this  derive  an  argument 
for  the  existence  of  God  ? It  is  certain  that  I no  less 


260 


MEDITATION  V 


find  the  idea  of  a God  in  my  consciousness,  that 
is  the  idea  of  a being  supremely  perfect,  than  that  of 
any  figure  or  number  whatever:  and  I know  with  not  less 
clearness  and  distinctness  that  an  [actual  and]  eternal 
existence  pertains  to  his  nature  than  that  all  which  is 
demonstrable  of  any  figure  or  number  really  belongs  to 
the  nature  of  that  figure  or  number;  and,  therefore,  al- 
though all  the  conclusions  of  the  preceding  Meditations 
were  false,  the  existence  of  God  would  pass  with  me  for 
a truth  at  least  as  certain  as  I ever  judged  any  truth  of 
mathematics  to  be,  although  indeed  such  a doctrine  may 
at  first  sight  appear  to  contain  more  sophistry  than  truth. 
For,  as  I have  been  accustomed  in  every  other  matter  to 
distinguish  between  existence  and  essence,  I easily  be- 
lieve that  the  existence  can  be  separated  from  the  es- 
sence of  God,  and  that  thus  God  may  be  conceived  as 
not  actually  existing.  But,  nevertheless,  when  I think  of 
it  more  attentively,  it  appears  that  the  existence  can  no 
more  be  separated  from  the  essence  of  God,  than  the  idea 
of  a mountain  from  that  of  a valley,  or  the  equality  of 
its  three  angles  to  two  right  angles,  from  the  essence  of 
a [rectilineal]  triangle;  so  that  it  is  not  less  impossible 
to  conceive  a God,  that  is,  a being  supremely  perfect,  to 
whom  existence  is  awanting,  or  who  is  devoid  of  a certain 
perfection,  than  to  conceive  a mountain  without  a valley. 

But  though,  in  truth,  I cannot  conceive  a God  unless 
as  existing,  any  more  than  I can  a mountain  without  a 
valley,  yet,  just  as  it  does  not  follow  that  there  is  any 
mountain  in  the  world  merely  because  I conceive  a 
mountain  with  a valley,  so  likewise,  though  I conceive 
God  as  existing,  it  does  not  seem  to  follow  on  that 
account  that  God  exists;  for  my  thought  imposes  no  ne- 
cessity on  things ; and  as  I may  imagine  a winged  horse, 
though  there  be  none  such,  so  I could  perhaps  attribute 
existence  to  God,  though  no  God  existed.  But  the  cases 
are  not  analogous,  and  a fallacy  lurks  under  the  sem- 
blance of  this  objection:  for  because  I cannot  conceive  a 
mountain  without  a valley,  it  does  not  follow  that  there 
is  any  mountain  or  valley  in  existence,  but  simply  that 
the  mountain  or  valley,  whether  they  do  or  do  not  exist, 
are  inseparable  from  each  other;  whereas,  on  the  other 
hand,  because  I cannot  conceive  God  unless  as  existing, 
ft  follows  that  existence  is  inseparable  from  him,  and 


OF  GOD:  THAT  HE  EXISTS 


261 


therefore  that  he  really  exists:  not  that  this  is  brought 
about  by  my  thought,  or  that  it  imposes  any  necessity 
on  things,  but,  on  the  contrary,  the  necessity  which  lies 
in  the  thing  itself,  that  is,  the  necessity  of  the  existence 
of  God,  determines  me  to  think  in  this  way:  for  it  is 
not  in  my  power  to  conceive  a God  without  existence, 
that  is,  a being  supremely  perfect,  and  yet  devoid  of  an 
absolute  perfection,  as  I am  free  to  imagine  a horse  with 
or  without  wings. 

Nor  must  it  be  alleged  here  as  an  objection,  that  it  is 
in  truth  necessary  to  admit  that  God  exists,  after  having 
supposed  him  to  possess  all  perfections,  since  existence 
is  one  of  them,  but  that  my  original  supposition  was  not 
necessary;  just  as  it  is  not  necessary  to  think  that  all 
quadrilateral  figures  can  be  inscribed  in  the  circle,  since, 
if  I supposed  this,  I should  be  constrained  to  admit  that 
the  rhombus,  being  a figure  of  four  sides,  can  be  therein 
inscribed,  which,  however,  is  manifestly  false.  This  ob- 
jection is,  I say,  incompetent;  for  although  it  may  not 
be  necessary  that  I shall  at  any  time  entertain  the  no- 
tion of  Deity,  yet  each  time  I happen  to  think  of  a first 
and  sovereign  being,  and  to  draw,  so  to  speak,  the  idea 
of  him  from  the  storehouse  of  the  mind,  I am  neces- 
sitated to  attribute  to  him  all  kinds  of  perfections,  though 
I may  not  then  enumerate  them  all,  nor  think  of  each  of 
them  in  particular.  And  this  necessity  is  sufficient,  as 
soon  as  I discover  that  existence  is  a perfection,  to  cause 
me  to  infer  the  existence  of  this  first  and  sovereign  being; 
just  as  it  is  not  necessary  that  I should  ever  imagine 
any  triangle,  but  whenever  I am  desirous  of  considering 
a rectilineal  figure  composed  of  only  three  angles,  it  is 
absolutely  necessary  to  attribute  those  properties  to  it 
from  which  it  is  correctly  inferred  that  its  three  angles 
are  not  greater  than  two  right  angles,  although  perhaps 
I may  not  then  advert  to  this  relation  in  particular.  But 
when  I consider  what  figures  are  capable  of  being  in- 
scribed in  the  circle,  it  is  by  no  means  necessary  to  hold 
that  all  quadrilateral  figures  are  of  this  number;  on  the 
contrary,  I cannot  even  imagine  such  to  be  the  case,  so 
long  as  I shall  be  unwilling  to  accept  in  thought  aught 
that  I do  not  clearly  and  distinctly  conceive;  and  con- 
sequently there  is  a vast  difference  between  false  suppo- 
sitions, as  is  the  one  in  question,  and  the  true  ideas  that 


262 


MEDITATION  V 


were  born  with  me,  the  first  and  chief  of  which  is  the 
idea  of  God.  For  indeed  I discern  on  many  grounds  that 
this  idea  is  not  factitious  depending  simply  on  my 
thought,  but  that  it  is  the  representation  of  a true  and 
immutable  nature:  in  the  first  place  because  I can  con- 
ceive no  other  being,  except  God,  to  whose  essence  exist- 
ence [necessarily]  pertains;  in  the  second,  because  it  is 
impossible  to  conceive  two  or  more  gods  of  this  kind ; and 
it  being  supposed  that  one  such  God  exists,  I clearly  see 
that  he  must  have  existed  from  all  eternity,  and  will 
exist  to  all  eternity;  and  finally,  because  I apprehend 
many  other  properties  in  God,  none  of  which  I can 
either  diminish  or  change. 

But,  indeed,  whatever  mode  of  probation  I in  the  end 
adopt,  it  always  returns  to  this,  that  it  is  only  the  things 
I clearly  and  distinctly  conceive  which  have  the  power 
of  completely  persuading  me.  And  although,  of  the 
objects  I conceive  in  this  manner,  some,  indeed,  are 
obvious  to  every  one,  while  others  are  only  discovered 
after  close  and  careful  investigation;  nevertheless  after 
they  are  once  discovered,  the  latter  are  not  esteemed 
less  certain  than  the  former.  Thus,  for  example,  to  take 
the  case  of  a right-angled  triangle,  although  it  is  not  so 
manifest  at  first  that  the  square  of  the  base  is  equal  to 
the  squares  of  the  other  two  sides,  as  that  the  base  is 
opposite  to  the  greatest  angle;  nevertheless,  after  it  is 
once  apprehended,  we  are  as  firmly  persuaded  of  the 
truth  of  the  former  as  of  the  latter.  And,  with  respect 
to  God  if  I were  not  pre-occupied  by  prejudices,  and  my 
thought  beset  on  all  sides  by  the  continual  presence  of 
the  images  of  sensible  objects,  I should  know  nothing 
sooner  or  more  easily  than  the  fact  of  his  being.  For 
is  there  any  truth  more  clear  than  the  existence  of  a 
Supreme  Being,  or  of  God,  seeing  it  is  to  his  essence 
alone  that  [necessary  and  eternal]  existence  pertains 
And  although  the  right  conception  of  this  truth  has  cost 
me  much  close  thinking,  nevertheless  at  present  I feel 
not  only  as  assured  of  it  as  of  what  I deem  most  cer- 
tain, but  I remark  further  that  the  certitude  of  all  other 
truths  is  so  absolutely  dependent  on  it,  that  without  this 
knowledge  it  is  impossible  ever  to  know  anything  perfectly. 

For  although  I am  of  such  a nature  as  to  be  unable, 
while  I possess  a very  clear  and  distinct  apprehension  of 


OF  GOD:  THAT  HE  EXISTS 


263 


a matter,  to  resist  the  conviction  of  its  truth,  yet  because 
my  constitution  is  also  such  as  to  incapacitate  me  from 
keeping  my  mind  continually  fixed  on  the  same  object, 
and  as  I frequently  recollect  a past  judgment  without  at 
the  same  time  being  able  to  recall  the  grounds  of  it,  it 
may  happen  meanwhile  that  other  reasons  are  presented 
to  me  which  would  readily  cause  me  to  change  my  opin- 
ion, if  I did  not  know  that  God  existed;  and  thus  I should 
possess  no  true  and  certain  knowledge,  but  merely  vague 
and  vacillating  opinions.  Thus,  for  example,  when  I con- 
sider the  nature  of  the  [rectilineal]  triangle,  it  most  clearly 
appears  to  me,  who  have  been  instructed  in  the  principles 
of  geometry,  that  its  three  angles  are  equal  to  two  right 
angles,  and  I find  it  impossible  to  believe  otherwise,  while 
I apply  my  mind  to  the  demonstration;  but  as  soon  as  I 
cease  from  attending  to  the  process  of  proof,  although  I 
still  remember  that  I had  a clear  comprehension  of  it,  yet 
I may  readily  come  to  doubt  of  the  truth  demonstrated,  if 
I do  not  know  that  there  is  a God:  for  I may  persuade 
myself  that  I have  been  so  constituted  by  nature  as  to  be 
sometimes  deceived,  even  in  matters  which  I think  I 
apprehend  with  the  greatest  evidence  and  certitude,  espe- 
cially when  I recollect  that  I frequently  considered  many 
things  to  be  true  and  certain  which  other  reasons  after- 
ward constrained  me  to  reckon  as  wholly  false. 

But  after  I have  discovered  that  God  exists,  seeing  I 
also  at  the  same  time  observed  that  all  things  depend  on 
him,  and  that  he  is  no  deceiver,  and  thence  inferred  that 
all  which  I clearly  and  distinctly  perceive  is  of  necessity 
true : although  I no  longer  attend  to  the  grounds  of  a 
judgment,  no  opposite  reason  can  be  alleged  sufficient  to 
lead  me  to  doubt  of  its  truth,  provided  only  I remember 
that  I once  possessed  a clear  and  distinct  comprehension 
of  it.  My  knowledge  of  it  thus  becomes  true  and  cer- 
tain. And  this  same  knowledge  extends  likewise  to  what- 
ever I remember  to  have  formerly  demonstrated,  as  the 
truths  of  geometry  and  the  like : for  what  can  be  alleged 
against  them  to  lead  me  to  doubt  of  them  ? Will  it  be  that 
my  nature  is  such  that  I may  be  frequently  deceived  ? 
But  I already  know  that  I cannot  be  deceived  in  judg- 
ments of  the  grounds  of  which  I possess  a clear  knowl- 
edge. Will  it  be  that  I formerly  deemed  things  to  be 
true  and  certain  which  I afterward  discovered  to  be 


264 


MEDITATION  VI 


false  ? But  I had  no  clear  and  distinct  knowledge  of  any 
of  those  things,  and,  being  as  yet  ignorant  of  the  rule  by 
which  I am  assured  of  the  truth  of  a judgment,  I was 
led  to  give  my  assent  to  them  on  grounds  which  I af- 
terward discovered  were  less  strong  than  at  the  time  I 
imagined  them  to  be.  What  further  objection,  then,  is 
there?  Will  it  be  said  that  perhaps  I am  dreaming  (an 
objection  I lately  myself  raised),  or  that  all  the  thoughts 
of  which  I am  now  conscious  have  no  more  truth  than 
the  reveries  of  my  dreams  ? But  although,  in  truth,  I 
should  be  dreaming,  the  rule  still  holds  that  all  which 
is  clearly  presented  to  my  intellect  is  indisputably  true. 

And  thus  I very  clearly  see  that  the  certitude  and 
truth  of  all  science  depends  on  the  knowledge  alone  of 
the  true  God,  insomuch  that,  before  I knew  him,  I could 
have  no  perfect  knowledge  of  any  other  thing.  And 
now  that  I know  him,  I possess  the  means  of  acquiring 
a perfect  knowledge  respecting  innumerable  matters,  as 
well  relative  to  God  himself  and  other  intellectual  ob- 
jects as  to  corporeal  nature,  in  so  far  as  it  is  the  object 
of  pure  mathematics  [which  do  not  consider  whether  it 
exists  or  not]. 


MEDITATION  VI. 

Of  the  Existence  of  Material  Things,  and  of  the 
Real  Distinction  Between  the  Mind 
and  Body  of  Man. 

There  now  only  remains  the  inquiry  as  to  whether 
material  things  exist.  With  regard  to  this  question,  I at 
least  know  with  certainty  that  such  things  may  exist,  in 
as  far  as  they  constitute  the  object  of  the  pure  mathe- 
matics, since,  regarding  them  in  this  aspect,  I can  con- 
ceive them  clearly  and  distinctly.  For  there  can  be  no 
doubt  that  God  possesses  the  power  of  producing  all  the 
objects  I am  able  distinctly  to  conceive,  and  I never 
considered  anything  impossible  to  him,  unless  when  I 
experienced  a contradiction  in  the  attempt  to  conceive  it 
aright.  Further,  the  faculty  of  imagination  which  I pos- 
sess, and  of  which  I am  conscious  that  I make  use  when 


EXISTENCE  OF  MATERIAL  THINGS,  ETC.  265 


I apply  myself  to  the  consideration  of  material  things,  is 
sufficient  to  persuade  me  of  their  existence:  for,  when  I 
attentively  consider  what  imagination  is,  I find  that  it  is 
simply  a certain  application  of  the  cognitive  faculty 
( facultas  cognoscitiva ) to  a body  which  is  immediately 
present  to  it,  and  which  therefore  exists. 

And  to  render  this  quite  clear,  I remark,  in  the  first 
place,  the  difference  that  subsists  between  imagination 
and  pure  intellection  [ or  conception  ].  For  example, 
when  I imagine  a triangle  I not  only  conceive  ( intelligo ) 
that  it  is  a figure  comprehended  by  three  lines,  but  at 
the  same  time  also  I look  upon  ( intueor ) these  three 
lines  as  present  by  the  power  and  internal  application  of 
my  mind  (acie  mentis),  and  this  is  what  I call  imagining. 
But  if  I desire  to  think  of  a chiliogon,  I indeed  rightly 
conceive  that  it  is  a figure  composed  of  a thousand  sides, 
as  easily  as  I conceive  that  a triangle  is  a figure  com- 
posed of  only  three  sides;  but  I cannot  imagine  the 
thousand  sides  of  a chiliogon  as  I do  the  three  sides  of 
a triangle,  nor,  so  to  speak,  view  them  as  present  [with 
the  eyes  of  my  mind  ].  And  although,  in  accordance 
with  the  habit  I have  of  always  imagining  something 
when  I think  of  corporeal  things,  it  may  happen  that,  in 
conceiving  a chiliogon,  I confusedly  represent  some  figure 
to  myself,  yet  it  is  quite  evident  that  this  is  not  a chiliogon, 
since  it  in  no  wise  differs  from  that  which  I would  rep- 
resent to  myself,  if  I were  to  think  of  a myriogon,  or 
any  other  figure  of  many  sides;  nor  would  this  represen- 
tation be  of  any  use  in  discovering  and  unfolding  the 
properties  that  constitute  the  difference  between  a chiliogon 
and  other  polygons.  But  if  the  question  turns  on  a pen- 
tagon, it  is  quite  true  that  I can  conceive  its  figure,  as 
well  as  that  of  a chiliogon,  without  the  aid  of  imagina- 
tion; but  I can  likewise  imagine  it  by  applying  the  at- 
tention of  my  mind  to  its  five  sides,  and  at  the  same 
time  to  the  area  which  they  contain.  Thus  I observe 
that  a special  effort  of  mind  is  necessary  to  the  act  of 
imagination,  which  is  not  required  to  conceiving  or  un- 
derstanding ( ad  intelligendum  ) ; and  this  special  exertion 
of  mind  clearly  shows  the  difference  between  imagination 
and  pure  intellection  ( imaginatio  et  intellectio  pur  a).  I 
remark,  besides,  that  this  power  of  imagination  which  I 
possess,  in  as  far  as  it  differs  from  the  power  of  conceiv- 


266 


MEDITATION  VI 


ing,  is  in  no  way  necessary  to  my  [nature  or]  essence, 
that  is,  to  the  essence  of  my  mind;  for  although  I did 
not  possess  it,  I should  still  remain  the  same  that  I now 
am,  from  which  it  seems  we  may  conclude  that  it  depends 
on  something  different  from  the  mind.  And  I easily 
understand  that,  if  some  body  exists,  with  which  my  mind 
is  so  conjoined  and  united  as  to  be  able,  as  it  were,  to 
consider  it  when  it  chooses,  it  may  thus  imagine  corpo- 
real objects;  so  that  this  mode  of  thinking  differs  from 
pure  intellection  only  in  this  respect,  that  the  mind  in 
conceiving  turns  in  some  way  upon  itself,  and  considers 
some  one  of  the  ideas  it  possesses  within  itself;  but  in 
imagining  it  turns  toward  the  body,  and  contemplates 
in  it  some  object  conformed  to  the  idea  which  it  either 
of  itself  conceived  or  apprehended  by  sense.  I easily 
understand,  I say,  that  imagination  may  be  thus  formed, 
if  it  is  true  that  there  are  bodies;  and  because  I find  no 
other  obvious  mode  of  explaining  it,  I thence,  with  prob- 
ability, conjecture  that  they  exist,  but  only  with  probability; 
and  although  I carefully  examine  all  things,  nevertheless 
I do  not  find  that,  from  the  distinct  idea  of  corporeal 
nature  I have  in  my  imagination,  I can  necessarily  infer 
the  existence  of  any  body. 

But  I am  accustomed  to  imagine  many  other  objects 
besides  that  corporeal  nature  which  is  the  object  of  the 
pure  mathematics,  as,  for  example,  colors,  sounds,  tastes, 
pain,  and  the  like,  although  with  less  distinctness;  and, 
inasmuch  as  I perceive  these  objects  much  better  by  the 
senses,  through  the  medium  of  which  and  of  memory, 
they  seem  to  have  reached  the  imagination,  I believe 
that,  in  order  the  more  advantageously  to  examine  them, 
it  is  proper  I should  at  the  same  time  examine  what 
sense-perception  is,  and  inquire  whether  from  those  ideas 
that  are  apprehended  by  this  mode  of  thinking  ( conscious- 
ness), I cannot  obtain  a certain  proof  of  the  existence  of 
corporeal  objects. 

And,  in  the  first  place,  I will  recall  to  my  mind  the 
things  I have  hitherto  held  as  true,  because  perceived  by 
the  senses,  and  the  foundations  upon  which  my  belief  in 
their  truth  rested;  I will,  in  the  second  place,  examine 
the  reasons  that  afterward  constrained  me  to  doubt  of 
them;  and,  finally,  I will  consider  what  of  them  I ought 
now  to  believe. 


EXISTENCE  OF  MATERIAL  THINGS,  ETC.  267 


Firstly,  then,  I perceived  that  I had  a head,  hands,  feet, 
and  other  members  composing  that  body  which  I consid- 
ered as  part,  or  perhaps  even  as  the  whole,  of  myself.  I 
perceived  further,  that  that  body  was  placed  among  many 
others,  by  which  it  was  capable  of  being  affected  in  diverse 
ways,  both  beneficial  and  hurtful ; and  what  was  beneficial 
I remarked  by  a certain  sensation  of  pleasure,  and  what 
was  hurtful  by  a sensation  of  pain.  And  besides  this 
pleasure  and  pain,  I was  likewise  conscious  of  hunger, 
thirst,  and  other  appetites,  as  well  as  certain  corporeal 
inclinations  toward  joy,  sadness,  anger,  and  similar  pas- 
sions. And,  out  of  myself,  besides  the  extension,  figure, 
and  motions  of  bodies,  I likewise  perceived  in  them  hard- 
ness, heat,  and  the  other  tactile  qualities,  and,  in  addi- 
tion, light,  colors,  odors,  tastes,  and  sounds,  the  variety 
of  which  gave  me  the  means  of  distinguishing  the  sky, 
the  earth,  the  sea,  and  generally  all  the  other  bodies, 
from  one  another.  And  certainly,  considering  the  ideaSTj 
of  all  these  qualities,  which  were  presented  to  my  mind, 
and  which  alone  I properly  and  immediately  perceived,  it 
was  not  without  reason  that  I thought  I perceived  cer- 
tain objects  wholly  different  from  my  thought,  namely, 
bodies  from  which  those  ideas  proceeded;  for  I was  con- 
scious that  the  ideas  were  presented  to  me  without  my 
consent  being  required,  so  that  I could  not  perceive  any 
object,  however  desirous  I might  be,  unless  it  were  pres- 
ent to  the  organ  of  sense;  and  it  was  wholly  out  of  my 
power  not  to  perceive  it  when  it  was  thus  present.  And 
because  the  ideas  I perceived  by  the  senses  were  much 
more  lively  and  clear,  and  even,  in  their  own  way,  more 
distinct  than  any  of  those  I could  of  myself  frame  by 
meditation,  or  which  I found  impressed  on  my  memory, 
it  seemed  that  they  could  not  have  proceeded  from  myself, 
and  must  therefore  have  been  caused  in  me  by  some 
other  objects;  and  as  of  those  objects  I had  no  knowl- 
edge beyond  what  the  ideas  themselves  gave  me,  noth- 
ing was  so  likely  to  occur  to  my  mind  as  the  supposition 
that  the  objects  were  similar  to  the  ideas  which  they 
caused.  And  because  I recollected  also  that  I had  for- 
merly trusted  to  the  senses,  rather  than  to  reason,  and 
that  the  ideas  which  I myself  formed  were  not  so  clear 
'as  those  I perceived  by  sense,  and  that  they  were  even 
for  the  most  part  composed  of  parts  of  the  latter,  I was 


268 


MEDITATION  VI 


readily  persuaded  that  I had  no  idea  in  my  intellect  which 
had  not  formerly  passed  through  the  senses.  Nor  was  I 
altogether  wrong  in  likewise  believing  that  that  body 
which,  by  a special  right,  I called  my  own,  pertained  to 
me  more  properly  and  strictly  than  any  of  the  others; 
for  in  truth,  I could  never  be  separated  from  it  as  from 
other  bodies;  I felt  in  it  and  on  account  of  it  all  my 
appetites  and  affections,  and  in  fine  I was  affected  in 
its  parts  by  pain  and  the  titillation  of  pleasure,  and  not 
in  the  parts  of  the  other  bodies  that  were  separated  from 
it.  But  when  I inquired  into  the  reason  why,  from  this 
I know  not  what  sensation  of  pain,  sadness  of  mind  should 
follow,  and  why  from  the  sensation  of  pleasure,  joy  should 
arise,  or  why  this  indescribable  twitching  of  the  stomach, 
which  I call  hunger,  should  put  me  in  mind  of  taking 
food,  and  the  parchedness  of  the  throat  of  drink,  and  so 
in  other  cases,  I was  unable  to  give  any  explanation,  un- 
less that  I was  so  taught  by  nature ; for  there  is  assuredly 
no  affinity,  at  least  none  that  I am  able  to  comprehend, 
between  this  irritation  of  the  stomach  and  the  desire  of 
food,  any  more  than  between  the  perception  of  an  object 
that  causes  pain  and  the  consciousness  of  sadness  which 
springs  from  the  perception.  And  in  the  same  way  it 
seemed  to  me  that  all  the  other  judgments  I had  formed 
regarding  the  objects  of  sense,  were  dictates  of  nature; 
because  I remarked  that  those  judgments  were  formed  in 
me,  before  I had  leisure  to  weigh  and  consider  the  rea- 
sons that  might  constrain  me  to  form  them. 

But,  afterward,  a wide  experience  by  degrees  sapped 
the  faith  I had  reposed  in  my  senses;  for  I frequently 
observed  that  towers,  which  at  a distance  seemed  round, 
appeared  square,  when  more  closely  viewed,  and  that 
colossal  figures,  raised  on  the  summits  of  these  towers, 
looked  like  small  statues,  when  viewed  from  the  bottom  of 
them;  and,  in  other  instances  without  number,  I also 
discovered  error  in  judgments  founded  on  the  external 
senses;  and  not  only  in  those  founded  on  the  external, 
but  even  in  those  that  rested  on  the  internal  senses;  for 
is  there  aught  more  internal  than  pain  ? And  yet  I have 
sometimes  been  informed  by  parties  whose  arm  or  leg 
had  been  amputated,  that  they  still  occasionally  seemed 
to  feel  pain  in  that  part  of  the  body  which  they  had  lost, 
— a circumstance  that  led  me  to  think  that  I could  not  be 


EXISTENCE  OF  MATERIAL  THINGS,  ETC.  269 


quite  certain  even  that  any  one  of  my  members  was  affected 
when  I felt  pain  in  it.  And  to  these  grounds  of  doubt 
I shortly  afterward  also  added  two  others  of  very  wide 
generality:  the  first  of  them  was  that  I believed  I never 
perceived  anything  when  awake  which  I could  not  occa- 
sionally think  I also  perceived  when  asleep,  and  as  I do 
not  believe  that  the  ideas  I seem  to  perceive  in  my  sleep 
proceed' from  objects  external  to  me,  I did  not  anymore 
observe  any  ground  for  believing  this  of  such  as  I seem 
to  perceive  when  awake ; the  second  was  that  since  I was 
as  yet  ignorant  of  the  author  of 'my  being  or  at  least  sup- 
posed myself  to  be  so,  I saw  nothing  to  prevent  my  having 
been  so  constituted  by  nature  as  that  I should  be  deceived 
even  in  matters  that  appeared  to  me  to  possess  the  greatest 
truth.  And,  with  respect  to  the  grounds  on  which  I had 
before  been  persuaded  of  the  existence  of  sensible  objects, 
I had  no  great  difficulty  in  finding  suitable  answers  to 
them ; for  as  nature  seemed  to  incline  me  to  many 
things  from  which  reason  made  me  averse,  I thought 
that  I ought  not  to  confide  much  in  its  teachings.  And 
although  the  perceptions  of  the  senses  were  not  dependent 
on  my  will,  I did  not  think  that  I ought  on  that  ground 
to  conclude  that  they  proceeded  from  things  different 
from  myself,  since  perhaps  there  might  be  found  in  me 
some  faculty,  though  hitherto  unknown  to  me,  which 
produced  them. 

But  now  that  I begin  to  know  myself  better,  and  to 
discover  more  clearly  the  author  of  my  being,  I do 
not,  indeed,  think  that  I ought  rashly  to  admit  all 
which  the  senses  seem  to  teach,  nor,  on  the  other  hand, 
is  it  my  conviction  that  I ought  to  doubt  in  general  of 
their  teachings. 

And,  firstly,  because  I know  that  all  which  I clearly 
and  distinctly  conceive  can  be  produced  by  God  exactly 
as  I conceive  it,  it  is  sufficient  that  I am  able  clearly  and 
distinctly  to  conceive  one  thing  apart  from  another,  in 
order  to  be  certain  that  the  one  is  different  from  the 
other,  seeing  they  may  at  least  be  made  to  exist  sep- 
arately, by  the  omnipotence  of  God;  and  it  matters  not 
by  what  power  this  separation  is  made,  in  order  to  be 
compelled  to  judge  them  different ; and,  therefore,  merely 
because  I know  with  certitude  that  I exist,  and  because, 
in  the  meantime,  I do  not  observe  that  aught  necessarily 


270 


MEDITATION  VI 


belongs  to  my  nature  or  essence  beyond  my  being  a 
thinking  thing,  I rightly  conclude  that  my  essence  con- 
sists only  in  my  being  a thinking  thing  [or  a substance 
whose  whole  essence  or  nature  is  merely  thinking]. 
And  although  I may,  or  rather,  as  I will  shortly  say,  al- 
though I certainly  do  possess  a body  with  which  I am  very 
closely  conjoined;  nevertheless,  because,  on  the  one  hand, 
I have  a clear  and  distinct  idea  of  myself,  in  as  far  as  I 
am  only  a thinking  and  unextended  thing,  and  as,  on  the 
other  hand,  I possess  a distinct  idea  of  body,  in  as  far 
as  it  is  only  an  extended  and  unthinking  thing,  it  is  cer- 
tain that  I,  [that  is,  my  mind,  by  which  I am  what  I 
am],  is  entirely  and  truly  distinct  from  my  body,  and 
may  exist  without  it. 

Moreover,  I find  in  myself  diverse  faculties  of  thinking 
that  have  each  their  special  mode:  for  example,  I find  I 
possess  the  faculties  of  imagining  and  perceiving,  without 
which  I can  indeed  clearly  and  distinctly  conceive  myself 
as  entire,  but  I cannot  reciprocally  conceive  them  without 
conceiving  myself,  that  is  to  say,  without  an  intelligent 
substance  in  which  they  reside,  for  [in  the  notion  we  have 
of  them,  or  to  use  the  terms  of  the  schools]  in  their  formal 
concept,  they  comprise  some  sort  of  intellection;  whence 
I perceive  that  they  are  distinct  from  myself  as  modes 
are  from  things.  I remark  likewise  certain  other  faculties, 
as  the  power  of  changing  place,  of  assuming  diverse 
figures,  and  the  like,  that  cannot  be  conceived  and  cannot 
therefore  exist,  any  more  than  the  preceding,  apart  from 
a substance  in  which  they  inhere.  It  is  very  evident, 
however,  that  these  faculties,  if  they  really  exist,  must  be- 
long to  some  corporeal  or  extended  substance,  since  in 
their  clear  and  distinct  concept  there  is  contained  some 
sort  of  extension,  but  no  intellection  at  all.  Further,  I 
cannot  doubt  but  that  there  is  in  me  a certain  passive 
faculty  of  perception,  that  is,  of  receiving  and  taking 
knowledge  of  the  ideas  of  sensible  things;  but  this  would 
be  useless  to  me,  if  there  did  not  also  exist  in  me,  or  in 
some  other  thing,  another  active  faculty  capable  of  form- 
ing and  producing  those  ideas.  But  this  active  faculty 
cannot  be  in  me  [in  as  far  as  I am  but  a thinking  thing], 
seeing  that  it  does  not  presuppose  thought,  and  also  that 
those  ideas  are  frequently  produced  in  my  mind  without 
my  contributing  to  it  in  any  way,  and  even  frequently 


EXISTENCE  OF  MATERIAL  THINGS,  ETC. 


271 


contrary  to  my  will.  This  faculty  must  therefore  exist  in  ' 
some  substance  different  from  me,  in  which  all  the  objec- 
tive reality  of  the  ideas  that  are  produced  by  this  faculty, 
is  contained  formally  or  eminently,  as  I before  remarked : 
and  this  substance  is  either  a body,  that  is  to  say,  a cor- 
poreal nature  in  which  is  contained  formally  [and  in  effect] 
all  that  is  objectively  [and  by  representation]  in  those 
ideas;  or  it  is  God  himself,  or  some  other  creature,  of  a 
rank  superior  to  body,  in  which  the  same  is  contained 
eminently.  But  as  God  is  no  deceiver,  it  is  manifest  that 
he  does  not  of  himself  and  immediately  communicate  those 
ideas  to  me,  nor  even  by  the  intervention  of  any  creature 
in  which  their  objective  reality  is  not  formally,  but  only 
eminently,  contained.  For  as  he  has  given  me  no  faculty 
whereby  I can  discover  this  to  be  the  case,  but,  on  the 
contrary,  a very  strong  inclination  to  believe  that  those 
ideas  arise  from  corporeal  objects,  I do  not  see  how  he 
could  be  vindicated  from  the  charge  of  deceit,  if  in  truth 
they  proceeded  from  any  other  source,  or  were  produced 
by  other  causes  than  corporeal  things : and  accordingly  it 
must  be  concluded,  that  corporeal  objects  exist.  Never- 
theless, they  are  not  perhaps  exactly  such  as  we  perceive 
by  the  senses,  for  their  comprehension  by  the  senses  is, 
in  many  instances,  very  obscure  and  confused ; but  it  is  at 
least  necessary  to  admit  that  all  which  I clearly  and  dis- 
tinctly conceive  as  in  them,  that  is,  generally  speaking, 
all  that  is  comprehended  in  the  object  of  speculative 
geometry,  really  exists  external  to  me. 

But  with  respect  to  other  things  which  are  either  only 
particular,  as,  for  example,  that  the  sun  is  of  such  a size 
and  figure,  etc.,  or  are  conceived  with  less  clearness  and 
distinctness,  as  light,  sound,  pain,  and  the  like,  although 
they  are  highly  dubious  and  uncertain,  nevertheless  on 
the  ground  alone  that  God  is  no  deceiver,  and  that  con- 
sequently he  has  permitted  no  falsity  in  my  opinions 
which  he  has  not  likewise  given  me  a faculty  of  correcting, 

I think  I may  with  safety  conclude  that  I possess  in  myself 
the  means  of  arriving  at  the  truth.  And,  in  the  first 
place,  it  cannot  be  doubted  that  in  each  of  the  dictates 
of  nature  there  is  some  truth:  for  by  nature,  considered 
in  general,  I now  understand  nothing  more  than  God 
himself,  or  the  order  and  disposition  established  by  God 
in  created  things;  and  by  my  nature  in  particular  I 


272 


MEDITATION  VI 


understand  the  assemblage  of  all  that  God  has  given 
me. 

But  there  is  nothing  which  that  nature  teaches  me  more 
expressly  [or  more  sensibly]  than  that  I have  a body 
which  is  ill  affected  when  I feel  pain,  and  stands  in  need 
of  food  and  drink  when  I experience  the  sensations  of 
hunger  and  thirst,  etc.  And  therefore  I ought  not  to 
doubt  but  that  there  is  some  truth  in  these  informations. 

Nature  likewise  teaches  me  by  these  sensations  of  pain, 
hunger,  thirst,  etc.,  that  I am  not  only  lodged  in  my 
body  as  a pilot  in  a vessel,  but  that  I am  besides  so 
intimately  conjoined,  and  as  it  were  intermixed  with  it, 
that  my  mind  and  body  compose  a certain  unity.  For 
if  this  were  not  the  case,  I should  not  feel  pain  when 
my  body  is  hurt,  seeing  I am  merely  a thinking  thing, 
but  should  perceive  the  wound  by  the  understanding 
alone,  just  as  a pilot  perceives  by  sight  when  any  part 
of  his  vessel  is  damaged;  and  when  my  body  has  need 
of  food  or  drink,  I should  have  a clear  knowledge  of 
this,  and  not  be  made  aware  of  it  by  the  confused  sen- 
sations of  hunger  and  thirst:  for,  in  truth,  all  these  sen- 
sations of  hunger,  thirst,  pain,  etc.,  are  nothing  more 
than  certain  confused  modes  of  thinking,  arising  from 
the  union  and  apparent  fusion  of  mind  and  body. 

Besides  this,  nature  teaches  me  that  my  own  body  is 
surrounded  by  many  other  bodies,  some  of  which  I have 
to  seek  after,  and  others  to  shun.  And  indeed,  as  I per- 
ceive different  sorts  of  colors,  sounds,  odors,  tastes,  heat, 
hardness,  etc.,  I safely  conclude  that  there  are  in  the 
bodies  from  which  the  diverse  perceptions  of  the  senses 
proceed,  certain  varieties  corresponding  to  them,  although, 
perhaps,  not  in  reality  like  them;  and  since,  among  these 
diverse  perceptions  of  the  senses,  some  are  agreeable, 
and  others  disagreeable,  there  can  be  no  doubt  that  my 
body,  or  rather  my  entire  self,  in  as  far  as  I am  com- 
posed of  body  and  mind,  may  be  variously  affected,  both 
beneficially  and  hurtfully,  by  surrounding  bodies. 

But  there  are  many  other  beliefs  which  though  seem- 
ingly the  teaching  of  nature,  are  not  in  reality  so,  but 
which  obtained  a place  in  my  mind  through  a habit  of 
judging  inconsiderately  of  things.  It  may  thus  easily 
happen  that  such  judgments  shall  contain  error:  thus,  for 
example,  the  opinion  I have  that  all  space  in  which 


EXISTENCE  OF  MATERIAL  THINGS,  ETC. 


273 


there  is  nothing  to  affect  [or  make  an  impression  on] 
my  senses  is  void;  that  in  a hot  body  there  is  something 
in  every  respect  similar  to  the  idea  of  heat  in  my  mind; 
that  in  a white  or  green  body  there  is  the  same  white- 
ness or  greenness  which  I perceive;  that  in  a bitter  or 
sweet  body  there  is  the  same  taste,  and  so  in  other 
instances;  that  the  stars,  towers,  and  all  distant  bodies, 
are  of  the  same  size  and  figure  as  they  appear  to  our 
eyes,  etc.  But  that  I may  avoid  everything  like  indis- 
tinctness of  conception,  I must  accurately  define  what  I 
properly  understand  by  being  taught  by  nature.  For 
nature  is  here  taken  in  a narrower  sense  than  when  it 
signifies  the  sum  of  all  the  things  which  God  has  given 
me ; seeing  that  in  that  meaning  the  notion  comprehends 
much  that  belongs  only  to  the  mind  [to  which  I am  not 
here  to  be  understood  as  referring  when  I use  the  term 
nature  ] ; as,  for  example,  the  notion  I have  of  the  truth, 
that  what  is  done  cannot  be  undone,  and  all  the  other 
truths  I discern  by  the  natural  light  [ without  the  aid 
of  the  body  ] ; and  seeing  that  it  comprehends  likewise 
much  besides  that  belongs  only  to  body,  and  is  not 
here  any  more  contained  under  the  name  nature,  as  the 
quality  of  heaviness,  and  the  like,  of  which  I do  not 
speak,  the  term  being  reserved  exclusively  to  designate 
the  things  which  God  has  given  to  me  as  a being  com- 
posed of  mind  and  body.  But  nature,  taking  the  term  in 
the  sense  explained,  teaches  me  to  shun  what  causes  in 
me  the  sensation  of  pain,  and  to  pursue  what  affords  me 
the  sensati  ti  of  pleasure,  and  other  things  of  this  sort; 
but  I do  1 c i discover  that  it  teaches  me,  in  addition  to 
this,  from  these  diverse  perceptions  of  the  senses,  to 
draw  any  conclusions  respecting  external  objects  without 
a previous  [ careful  and  mature  ] consideration  of  them 
by  the  mind:  for  it  is,  as  appears  to  me,  the  office  of  the 
mind  alone,  and  not  of  the  composite  whole  of  mind  and 
body,  to  discern  the  truth  in  those  matters.  Thus,  although 
the  impression  a star  makes  on  my  eye  is  not  larger 
than  that  from  the  flame  of  a candle,  I do  not,  never- 
theless, experience  any  real  or  positive  impulse  determin- 
ing me  to  believe  that  the  star  is  not  greater  than  the 
flame;  the  true  account  of  the  matter  being  merely  that 
I have  so  judged  from  my  youth  without  any  rational 
ground.  And,  though  on  approaching  the  fire  I feel 
18 


i 


274 


MEDITATION  VI 


heat,  and  even  pain  on  approaching  it  too  closely,  I have, 
however,  from  this  no  ground  for  holding  that  something 
resembling  the  heat  I feel  is  in  the  fire,  any  more  than 
that  there  is  something  similar  to  the  pain;  all  that 
I have  ground  for  believing  is,  that  there  is  something 
in  it,  whatever  it  may  be,  which  excites  in  me  those  sen- 
sations of  heat  or  pain.  So  also,  although  there  are  spaces 
in  which  I find  nothing  to  excite  and  affect  my  senses, 
I must  not  therefore  conclude  that  those  spaces  contain 
in  them  no  body;  for  I see  that  in  this,  as  in  many  other 
similar  matters,  I have  been  accustomed  to  pervert  the 
order  of  nature,  because  these  perceptions  of  the  senses, 
although  given  me  by  nature  merely  to  signify  to  my 
mind  what  things  are  beneficial  and  hurtful  to  the  com- 
posite whole  of  which  it  is  a part,  and  being  sufficiently 
clear  and  distinct  for  that  purpose,  are  nevertheless  used 
by  me  as  infallible  rules  by  which  to  determine  imme- 
diately the  essence  of  the  bodies  that  exist  out  of  me,  of 
which  they  can  of  course  afford  me  only  the  most  obscure 
and  confused  knowledge. 

But  I have  already  sufficiently  considered  how  it  hap- 
pens that,  notwithstanding  the  supreme  goodness  of  God, 
there  is  falsity  in  my  judgments.  A difficulty,  however, 
here  presents  itself,  respecting  the  things  which  I am 
taught  by  nature  must  be  pursued  or  avoided,  and  also 
respecting  the  internal  sensations  in  which  I seem  to 
have  occasionally  detected  error,  [ and  thus  to  be  directly 
deceived  by  nature]:  thus,  for  example,  I may  be  so 
deceived  by  the  agreeable  taste  of  some  viand  with  which 
poison  has  been  mixed,  as  to  be  induced  to  take  the 
poison.  In  this  case,  however,  nature  may  be  excused, 
for  it  simply  leads  me  to  desire  the  viand  for  its  agree- 
able taste,  and  not  the  poison,  which  is  unknown  to  it; 
and  thus  we  can  infer  nothing  from  this  circumstance 
beyond  that  our  nature  is  not  omniscient;  at  which  there 
is  assuredly  no  ground  for  surprise,  since,  man  being  of 
a finite  nature,  his  knowledge  must  likewise  be  of  a 
limited  perfection.  But  we  also  not  unfrequently  err  in 
that  to  which  we  are  directly  impelled  by  nature,  as  is 
the  case  with  invalids  who  desire  drink  or  food  that  would 
be  hurtful  to  them.  It  will  here,  perhaps,  be  alleged 
that  the  reason  why  such  persons  are  deceived  is  that 
their  nature  is  corrupted;  but  this  leaves  the  difficulty 


EXISTENCE  OF  MATERIAL  THINGS,  ETC. 


275 


untouched,  for  a sick  man  is  not  less  really  the  creature 
of  God  than  a man  who  is  in  full  health;  and  therefore 
it  is  as  repugnant  to  the  goodness  of  God  that  the  nature 
of  the  former  should  be  deceitful  as  it  is  for  that  of  the 
latter  to  be  so.  And  as  a clock,  composed  of  wheels 
and  counter  weights,  observes  not  the  less  accurately  all 
the  laws  of  nature  when  it  is  ill  made,  and  points  out 
the  hours  incorrectly,  than  when  it  satisfies  the  desire  of 
the  maker  in  every  respect;  so  likewise  if  the  body  of 
man  be  considered  as  a kind  of  machine,  so  made  up 
and  composed  of  bones,  nerves,  muscles,  veins,  blood, 
and  skin,  that  although  there  were  in  it  no  mind,  it 
would  still  exhibit  the  same  motions  which  it  at  present 
manifests  involuntarily,  and  therefore  without  the  aid  of 
the  mind,  [and  simply  by  the  dispositions  of  its  organs], 
I easily  discern  that  it  would  also  be  as  natural  for  such  a 
body,  supposing  it  dropsical,  for  example,  to  experience 
the  parchedness  of  the  throat  that  is  usually  accompanied 
in  the  mind  by  the  sensation  of  thirst,  and  to  be  dis- 
posed by  this  parchedness  to  move  its  nerves  and  its 
other  parts  in  the  way  required  for  drinking,  and  thus 
increase  its  malady  and  do  itself  harm,  as  it  is  natural  for 
it,  when  it  is  not  indisposed  to  be  stimulated  to  drink 
for  its  good  by  a similar  cause;  and  although  looking  to 
the  use  for  which  a clock  was  destined  by  its  maker,  I 
may  say  that  it  is  deflected  from  its  proper  nature  when 
it  incorrectly  indicates  the  hours,  and  on  the  same  prin- 
ciple, considering  the  machine  of  the  human  body  as 
having  been  formed  by  God  for  the  sake  of  the  motions 
which  it  usually  manifests,  although  I may  likewise  have 
ground  for  thinking  that  it  does  not  follow  the  order  of 
its  nature  when  the  throat  is  parched  and  drink  does 
not  tend  to  its  preservation,  nevertheless  I yet  plainly 
discern  that  this  latter  acceptation  of  the  term  nature  is 
very  different  from  the  other:  for  this  is  nothing  more 
than  a certain  denomination,  depending  entirely  on  my 
thought,  and  hence  called  extrinsic,  by  which  I compare 
a sick  man  and  an  imperfectly  constructed  clock  with 
the  idea  I have  of  a man  in  good  health  and  a well  made 
clock;  while  by  the  other  acceptation  of  nature  is  under- 
stood something  which  is  truly  found  in  things,  and 
therefore  possessed  of  some  truth. 

But  certainly,  although  in  respect  of  a dropsical  body, 


276 


MEDITATION  VI 


it  is  only  by  way  of  exterior  denomination  that  we  say  its 
nature  is  corrupted,  when,  without  requiring  drink,  the 
throat  is  parched;  yet,  in  respect  of  the  composite  whole, 
that  is,  of  the  mind  in  its  union  with  the  body,  it  is  not 
a pure  denomination,  but  really  an  error  of  nature,  for 
» it  to  feel  thirst  when  drink  would  be  hurtful  to  it:  and, 
accordingly,  it  still  remains  to  be  considered  why  it  is 
that  the  goodness  of  God  does  not  prevent  the  nature  of 
man  thus  taken  from  being  fallacious. 

To  commence  this  examination  accordingly,  I here 
remark,  in  the  first  place,  that  there  is  a vast  difference 
between  mind  and  body,  in  respect  that  body,  from  its 
nature,  is  always  divisible,  and  that  mind  is  entirely  in- 
divisible. For  in  truth,  when  I consider  the  mind,  that 
is,  when  I consider  myself  in  so  far  only  as  I am  a think- 
ing thing,  I can  distinguish  in  myself  no  parts,  but  I 
very  clearly  discern  that  I am  somewhat  absolutely  one 
and  entire;  and  although  the  whole  mind  seems  to  be 
united  to  the  whole  body,  yet,  when  a foot,  an  arm,  or 
any  other  part  is  cut  off,  I am  conscious  that  nothing 
has  been  taken  from  my  mind;  nor  can  the  faculties  of 
willing,  perceiving,  conceiving,  etc.,  properly  be  called 
its  parts,  for  it  is  the  same  mind  that  is  exercised  [all 
entire]  in  willing,  in  perceiving,  and  in  conceiving,  etc. 
‘But  quite  the  opposite  holds  in  corporeal  or  extended 
things ; for  I cannot  imagine  any  one  of  them  [how  small 
soever  it  may  be],  which  I cannot  easily  sunder  in  thought, 
and  which,  therefore,  I do  not  know  to  be  divisible. 
This  would  be  sufficient  to  teach  me  that  the  mind  or  soul 
of  man  is  entirely  different  from  the  body,  if  I had  not 
already  been  apprised  of  it  on  other  grounds. 

I remark,  in  the  next  place,  that  the  mind  does  not 
immediately  receive  the  impression  from  all  the  parts  of 
the  body,  but  only  from  the  brain,  or  perhaps  even  from 
one  small  part  of  it,  viz,  that  in  which  the  common  sense 
( sensus  communis ) is  said  to  be,  which  as  bften  as  ft  is 
affected  in  the  same  way  gives  rise  to  the  same  percep- 
tion in  the  mind,  although  meanwhile  the  other  parts  of 
the  body  may  be  diversely  disposed,  as  is  proved  by  in- 
numerable experiments,  which  it  is  unnecessary  here  to 
enumerate. 


I remark,  besides,  that  the  nature  of  body  is  sucl 
that  none  of  its  parts  can  be  moved  by  another  part  ; 


EXISTENCE  OF  MATERIAL  THINGS,  ETC. 


277 


little  removed  from  the  other,  which  cannot  likewise  be 
moved  in  the  same  way  by  any  one  of  the  parts  that  lie 
between  those  two,  although  the  most  remote  part  does 
not  act  at  all.  As,  for  example,  in  the  cord  a,  b,  c,  d, 
[which  is  in  tension],  if  its  last  part  d,  be  pulled,  the 
first  part  a,  will  not  be  moved  in  a different  way  than  it 
would  be  were  one  of  the  intermediate  parts  b or  c to  be 
pulled,  and  the  last  part  d meanwhile  to  remain  fixed. 
And  in  the  same  way,  when  I feel  pain  in  the  foot,  the 
science  of  physics  teaches  me  that  this  sensation  is 
experienced  by  means  of  the  nerves  dispersed  over  the 
foot,  which,  extending  like  cords  from  it  to  the  brain, 
when  they  are  contracted  in  the  foot,  contract  at  the 
same  time  the  inmost  parts  of  the  brain  in  which  they 
have  their  origin,  and  excite  in  these  parts  a certain  mo- 
tion appointed  by  nature  to  cause  in  the  mind  a sensa- 
tion of  pain,  as  if  existing  in  the  foot ; but  as  these  nerves 
must  pass  through  the  tibia,  the  leg,  the  loins,  the  back, 
and  neck,  in  order  to  reach  the  brain,  it  may  happen 
that  although  their  extremities  in  the  foot  are  not  affected, 
but  only  certain  of  their  parts  that  pass  through  the  loins 
or  neck,  the  same  movements,  nevertheless,  are  excited 
in  the  brain  by  this  motion  as  would  have  been  caused 
there  by  a hurt  received  in  the  foot,  and  hence  the  mind 
will  necessarily  feel  pain  in  the  foot,  just  as  if  it  had 
been  hurt;  and  the  same  is  true  of  all  the  other  percep- 
tions of  our  senses. 

I remark,  finally,  that  as  each  of  the  movements  that 
are  made  in  the  part  of  the  brain  by  which  the  mind  is 
immediately  affected,  impresses  it  with  but  a single  sen- 
sation, the  most  likely  supposition  in  the  circumstances 
is,  that  this  movement  causes  the  mind  to  experience, 
among  all  the  sensations  which  it  is  capable  of  impress- 
ing upon  it,  that  one  which  is  the  best  fitted,  and  gen- 
erally the  most  useful  for  the  preservation  of  the  human 
body  when  it  is  in  full  health.  But  experience  shows 
us  that  all  the  perceptions  which  nature  has  given  us 
are  of  such  a kind  as  I have  mentioned ; and  accordingly, 
there  is  nothing  found  in  them  that  does  not  manifest 
the  power  and  goodness  of  God.  Thus,  for  example, 
when  the  nerves  of  the  foot  are  violently  or  more  than 
usually  shaken,  the  motion  passing  through  the  medulla 
of  the  spine  to  the  innermost  parts  of  the  brain  affords 


278 


MEDITATION  VI 


a sign  to  the  mind  on  which  it  experiences  a sensation, 
viz.,  of  pain,  as  if  it  were  in  the  foot,  by  which  the 
mind  is  admonished  and  excited  to  do  its  utmost  to  re- 
move the  cause  of  it  as  dangerous  and  hurtful  to  the 
foot.  It  is  true  that  God  could  have  so  constituted  the 
nature  of  man  as  that  the  same  motion  in  the  brain 
would  have  informed  the  mind  of  something  altogether 
different:  the  motion  might,  for  example,  have  been  the 
occasion  on  which  the  mind  became  conscious  of  itself, 
in  so  far  as  it  is  in  the  brain,  or  in  so  far  as  it  is  in 
some  place  intermediate  between  the  foot  and  the  brain, 
or,  finally,  the  occasion  on  which  it  perceived  some 
other  object  quite  different,  whatever  that  might  be; 
but  nothing  of  all  this  would  have  so  well  contributed 
to  the  preservation  of  the  body  as  that  which  the  mind 
actually  feels.  In  the  same  way,  when  we  stand  in 
need  of  drink,  there  arises  from  this  want  a certain 
parchedness  in  the  throat  that  moves  its  nerves,  and  by 
means  of  them  the  internal  parts  of  the  brain;  and  this 
movement  affects  the  mind  with  the  sensation  of  thirst, 
because  there  is  nothing  on  that  occasion  which  is  more 
useful  for  us  than  to  be  made  aware  that  we  have  need 
of  drink  for  the  preservation  of  our  health;  and  so  in 
other  instances. 

Whence  it  is  quite  manifest  that,  notwithstanding  the 
sovereign  goodness  of  God,  the  nature  of  man,  in  so  far 
as  it  is  composed  of  mind  and  body,  cannot  but  be  some- 
times fallacious.  For,  if  there  is  any  cause  which  excites, 
not  in  the  foot,  but  in  some  one  of  the  parts  of  the  nerves 
that  stretch  from  the  foot  to  the  brain,  or  even  in  the 
brain  itself,  the  same  movement  that  is  ordinarily  created 
when  the  foot  is  ill  affected,  pain  will  be  felt,  as  it  were, 
in  the  foot,  and  the  sense  will  thus  be  naturally  deceived; 
for  as  the  same  movement  in  the  brain  can  but  impress 
the  mind  with  the  same  sensation,  and  as  this  sensation 
is  much  more  frequently  excited  by  a cause  which  hurts 
the  foot  than  by  one  acting  in  a different  quarter,  it  is 
reasonable  that  it  should  lead  the  mind  to  feel  pain  in 
the  foot  rather  than  in  any  other  part  of  the  body.  And 
if  it  sometimes  happens  that  the  parchedness  of  the 
throat  does  not  arise,  as  is  usual,  from  drink  being  neces- 
sary for  the  health  of  the  body,  but  from  quite  the  oppo- 
site cause,  as  is  the  case  with  the  dropsical,  yet  it  is 


EXISTENCE  OF  MATERIAL  THINGS,  ETC.  279 


much  better  that  it  should  be  deceitful  in  that  instance, 
than  if,  on  the  contrary,  it  were  continually  fallacious 
when  the  body  is  well-disposed;  and  the  same  holds  true 
in  other  cases. 

And  certainly  this  consideration  is  of  great  service,  not 
only  in  enabling  me  to  recognize  the  errors  to  which  my 
nature  is  liable,  but  likewise  in  rendering  it  more  easy 
to  avoid  or  correct  them : for,  knowing  that  all  my  senses 
more  usually  indicate  to  me  what  is  true  than  what  is 
false,  in  matters  relating  to  the  advantage  of  the  body, 
and  being  able  almost  always  to  make  use  of  more  than 
a single  sense  in  examining  the  same  object,  and  besides 
this,  being  able  to  use  my  memory  in  connecting  present 
with  past  knowledge,  and  my  understanding  which  has 
already  discovered  all  the  causes  of  my  errors,  I ought 
no  longer  to  fear  that  falsity  may  be  met  with  in  what 
is  daily  presented  to  me  by  the  senses.  And  I ought  to 
reject  all  the  doubts  of  those  bygone  days,  as  hyper- 
bolical and  ridiculous,  especially  the  general  uncertainty 
respecting  sleep,  which  I could  not  distinguish  from  the 
waking  state:  for  I now  find  a very  marked  difference 
between  the  two  states,  in  respect  that  our  memory  can 
never  connect  our  dreams  with  each  other  and  with  the 
course  of  life,  in  the  way  it  is  in  the  habit  of  doing 
with  events  that  occur  when  we  are  awake.  And,  in 
truth,  if  some  one,  when  I am  awake,  appeared  to  me 
all  of  a sudden  and  as  suddenly  disappeared,  as  do  the 
images  I see  in  sleep,  so  that  I could  not  observe  either 
whence  he  came  or  whither  he  went,  I should  not  with- 
out reason  esteem  it  either  a specter  or  phantom  formed 
in  my  brain,  rather  than  a real  man.  But  when  I per- 
ceive objects  with  regard  to  which  I can  distinctly  de- 
termine both  the  place  whence  they  come,  and  that  in 
which  they  are,  and  the  time  at  which  they  appear  to 
me,  and  when,  without  interruption,  I can  connect  the 
perception  I have  of  them  with  the  whole  of  the  other 
parts  of  my  life,  I am  perfectly  sure  that  what  I thus 
perceive  occurs  while  I am  awake  and  not  during  sleep. 
And  I ought  not  in  the  least  degree  to  doubt  of  the 
truth  of  these  presentations,  if,  after  having  called  to- 
gether all  my  senses,  my  memory,  and  my  understand- 
ing for  the  purpose  of  examining  them,  no  deliverance 
is  given  by  any  one  of  these  faculties  which  is  repugnant 


MEDITATION  VI 


280 

to  that  of  any  other:  for  since  God  is  no  deceiver,  it 
necessarily  follows  that  I am  not  herein  deceived.  But 
because  the  necessities  of  action  frequently  oblige  us  to 
come  to  a determination  before  we  have  had  leisure  for 
so  careful  an  examination,  it  must  be  confessed  that  the 
life  of  man  is  frequently  obnoxious  to  error  with  respect 
to  individual  objects;  and  we  must,  in  conclusion,  ac» 
knowledge  the  weakness  of  our  nature. 


SELECTIONS 


FROM 

THE  PRINCIPLES  OF  PHILOSOPHY 

OF 


DESCARTES 


TRANSLATED  FROM  THE  LATIN  AND  COLLATED 
WITH  THE  FRENCH 


LETTER  OF  THE  AUTHOR 


TO  THE 

FRENCH  TRANSLATOR  OF  THE  PRINCIPLES  OF 
PHILOSOPHY  SERVING  FOR  A PREFACE. 


Sir  : — The  version  of  my  Principles  which  you  have  been 
at  pains  to  make,  is  so  elegant  and  finished  as  to  lead 
me  to  expect  that  the  work  will  be  more  generally  read 
in  French  than  in  Latin,  and  better  understood.  The 
only  apprehension  I entertain  is  lest  the  title  should  de- 
ter some  who  have  not  been  brought  up  to  letters,  or 
with  whom  philosophy  is  in  bad  repute,  because  the  kind 
they  were  taught  has  proved  unsatisfactory;  and  this 
makes  me  think  that  it  will  be  useful  to  add  a preface 
to  it  for  the  purpose  of  showing  what  the  matter  of  the 
work  is,  what  end  I had  in  view  in  writing  it,  and  what 
utility  may  be  derived  from  it.  But  although  it  might 
be  my  part  to  write  a preface  of  this  nature,  seeing  I 
ought  to  know  those  particulars  better  than  any  other 
person,  I cannot,  nevertheless,  prevail  upon  myself  to  do 
anything  more  than  merely  to  give  a summary  of  the 
chief  points  that  fall,  as  I think,  to  be  discussed  in  it: 
and  I leave  it  to  your  discretion  to  present  to  the  public 
such  part  of  them  as  you  shall  judge  proper. 

I should  have  desired,  in  the  first  place,  to  explain  in 
it  what  philosophy  is,  by  commencing  with  the  most 
common  matters,  as,  for  example,  that  the  word  philoso- 
phy signifies  the  study  of  wisdom,  and  that  by  wisdom 
is  to  be  understood  not  merely  prudence  in  the  manage- 
ment of  affairs,  but  a perfect  knowledge  of  all  that  man 
can  know,  as  well  for  the  conduct  of  his  life  as  for  the 
preservation  of  his  health  and  the  discovery  of  all  the 
arts,  and  that  knowledge  to  subserve  these  ends  must  nec- 
essarily be  deduced  from  first  causes ; so  that  in  order  to 
study  the  acquisition  of  it  (which  is  properly  called  phi 

(283) 


284 


PREFACE  TO  THE  PRINCIPLES 


losophizing),  we  must  commence  with  the  investigation 
of  those  first  causes  which  are  called  Principles.  Now 
these  principles  must  possess  two  conditions:  in  the  first 
place,  they  must  be  so  clear  and  evident  that  the  human 
mind,  when  it  attentively  considers  them,  cannot  doubt 
of  their  truth;  in  the  second  place,  the  knowledge  of 
other  things  must  be  so  dependent  on  them  as  that  though 
the  principles  themselves  may  indeed  be  known  apart 
from  what  depends  on  them,  the  latter  cannot,  neverthe- 
less, be  known  apart  from  the  former.  It  will  accordingly 
be  necessary  thereafter  to  endeavor  so  to  deduce  from 
those  principles  the  knowledge  of  the  things  that  depend 
on  them,  as  that  there  may  be  nothing  in  the  whole  series 
of  deductions  which  is  not  perfectly  manifest.  God  is  in 
truth  the  only  being  who  is  absolutely  wise,  that  is,  who 
possesses  a perfect  knowledge  of  all  things ; but  we  may 
say  that  men  are  more  or  less  wise  as  their  knowledge 
of  the  most  important  truths  is  greater  or  less.  And  I 
am  confident  that  there  is  nothing,  in  what  I have  now 
said,  in  which  all  the  learned  do  not  concur. 

I should,  in  the  next  place,  have  proposed  to  consider 
the  utility  of  philosophy,  and  at  the  same  time  have 
shown  that,  since  it  embraces  all  that  the  human  mind 
can  know,  we  ought  to  believe  that  it  is  by  it  we  are 
distinguished  from  savages  and  barbarians,  and  that  the 
civilization  and  culture  of  a nation  is  regulated  by  the 
degree  in  which  true  philosophy  flourishes  in  it,  and, 
accordingly,  that  to  contain  true  philosophers  is  the  high- 
est privilege  a state  can  enjoy.  Besides  this,  I should 
have  shown  that,  as  regards  individuals,  it  is  not  only 
useful  for  each  man  to  have  intercourse  with  those  who 
apply  themselves  to  this  study,  but  that  it  is  incomparably 
better  he  should  himself  direct  his  attention  to  it;  just  as 
it  is  doubtless  to  be  preferred  that  a man  should  make  use 
of  his  own  eyes  to  direct  his  steps,  and  enjoy  by  means 
of  the  same  the  beauties  of  color  and  light,  than  that  he 
should  blindly  follow  the  guidance  of  another;  though 
the  latter  course  is  certainly  better  than  to  have  the  eyes 
closed  with  no  guide  except  one’s  self.  But  to  live  with- 
out philosophizing  is  in  truth  the  same  as  keeping  the 
eyes  closed  without  attempting  to  open  them;  and  the 
pleasure  of  seeing  all  that  sight  discloses  is  not  to  be 
compared  with  the  satisfaction  afforded  by  the  discoveries 


PREFACE  TO  THE  PRINCIPLES 


285 


of  philosophy.  And,  finally,  this  study  is  more  impera- 
tively requisite  for  the  regulation  of  our  manners,  and 
for  conducting  us  through  life,  than  is  the  use  of  our 
eyes  for  directing  our  steps.  The  brutes,  which  have 
only  their  bodies  to  conserve,  are  continually  occupied 
in  seeking  sources  of  nourishment;  but  men,  of  whom 
the  chief  part  is  the  mind,  ought  to  make  the  search 
after  wisdom  their  principal  care,  for  wisdom  is  the  true 
nourishment  of  the  mind;  and  I feel  assured,  moreover, 
that  there  are  very  many  who  would  not  fail  in  the  search, 
if  they  would  but  hope  for  success  in  it,  and  knew  the 
degree  of  their  capabilities  for  it.  There  is  no  mind, 
how  ignoble  soever  it  be,  which  remains  so  firmly  bound 
up  in  the  objects  of  the  senses,  as  not  sometime  or  other 
to  turn  itself  away  from  them  in  the  aspiration  after  some 
higher  good,  although  not  knowing  frequently  wherein 
that  good  consists.  The  greatest  favorites  of  fortune  — 
those  who  have  health,  honors,  and  riches  in  abundance 
— are  not  more  exempt  from  aspirations  of  this  nature 
than  others ; nay,  I am  persuaded  that  these  are  the  per- 
sons who  sigh  the  most  deeply  after  another  good  greater 
and  more  perfect  still  than  any  they  already  possess. 
But  the  supreme  good,  considered  by  natural  reason 
without  the  light  of  faith,  is  nothing  more  than  the 
knowledge  of  truth  through  its  first  causes,  in  other  words, 
the  wisdom  of  which  philosophy  is  the  study.  And,  as 
all  these  particulars  are  indisputably  true,  all  that  is 
required  to  gain  assent  to  their  truth  is  that  they  be  well 
stated. 

But  as  one  is  restrained  from  assenting  to  these  doc- 
trines by  experience,  which  shows  that  they  who  make 
pretensions  to  philosophy  are  often  less  wise  and  reason- 
able than  others  who  never  applied  themselves  to  the 
study,  I should  have  here  shortly  explained  wherein  con- 
sists all  the  science  we  now  possess,  and  what  are  the 
degrees  of  wisdom  at  which  we  have  arrived.  The  first 
degree  contains  only  notions  so  clear  of  themselves  that 
they  can  be  acquired  without  meditation ; the  second  com- 
prehends all  that  the  experience  of  the  senses  dictates; 
the  third,  that  which  the  conversation  of  other  men  teaches 
us;  to  which  may  be  added  as  the  fourth,  the  reading, 
not  of  all  books,  but  especially  of  such  as  have  been 
written  by  persons  capable  of  conveying  proper  instruc- 


286 


PREFACE  TO  THE  PRINCIPLES 


tion,  for  it  is  a species  of  conversation  we  hold  with  their 
authors.  And  it  seems  to  me  that  all  the  wisdom  we  in 
ordinary  possess  is  acquired  only  in  these  four  ways ; for 
I do  not  class  divine  revelation  among  them,  because  it 
does  not  conduct  us  by  degrees,  but  elevates  us  at  once 
to  an  infallible  faith. 

There  have  been,  indeed,  in  all  ages  great  minds  who 
endeavored  to  find  a fifth  road  to  wisdom,  incomparably 
more  sure  and  elevated  than  the  other  four.  The  path 
they  assayed  was  the  search  of  first  causes  and  true  prin- 
ciples, from  which  might  be  deduced  the  reasons  of  all 
that  can  be  known  by  man ; and  it  is  to  them  the  appel- 
lation of  philosophers  has  been  more  especially  accorded. 
I am  not  aware  that  there  is  any  one  of  them  up  to  the 
present  who  has  succeeded  in  this  enterprise.  The  first 
and  chief  whose  writings  we  possess,  are  Plato  and  Aris- 
totle, between  whom  there  was  no  difference,  except  that 
the  former,  following  in  the  footsteps  of  his  master,  Soc- 
rates, ingenuously  confessed  that  he  had  never  yet  been 
able  to  find  anything  certain,  and  that  he  was  contented 
to  write  what  seemed  to  him  probable,  imagining,  for  this 
end,  certain  principles  by  which  he  endeavored  to  account 
for  the  other  things.  Aristotle,  on  the  other  hand,  char- 
acterized by  less  candor,  although  for  twenty  years  the 
disciple  of  Plato,  and  with  no  principles  beyond  those  of 
his  master,  completely  reversed  his  mode  of  putting  them, 
and  proposed  as  true  and  certain  what  it  is  probable  he 
himself  never  esteemed  as  such.  But  these  two  men  had 
acquired  much  judgment  and  wisdom  by  the  four  preced- 
ing means,  qualities  which  raised  their  authority  very  high, 
so  much  so  that  those  who  succeeded  them  were  willing 
rather  to  acquiesce  in  their  opinions,  than  to  seek  better 
for  themselves.  The  chief  question  among  their  disciples, 
however,  was  as  to  whether  we  ought  to  doubt  of  all 
things  or  hold  some  as  certain,  a dispute  which  led  them 
on  both  sides  into  extravagant  errors ; for  a part  of  those 
who  were  for  doubt,  extended  it  even  to  the  actions  of 
life,  to  the  neglect  of  the  most  ordinary  rules  required 
for  its  conduct;  those,  on  the  other  hand,  who  maintained 
the  doctrine  of  certainty,  supposing  that  it  must  depend 
upon  the  senses,  trusted  entirely  to  them.  To  such  an 
extent  was  this  carried  by  Epicurus,  that  it  is  said  he 
ventured  to  affirm,  contrary  to  all  the  reasonings  of 


PREFACE  TO  THE  PRINCIPLES 


287 


the  astronomers,  that  the  sun  is  no  larger  than  it  ap- 
pears. 

It  is  a fault  we  may  remark  in  most  disputes,  that,  as 
truth  is  the  mean  between  the  two  opinions  that  are  up- 
held, each  disputant  departs  from  it  in  proportion  to 
the  degree  in  which  he  possesses  the  spirit  of  contradic- 
tion. But  the  error  of  those  who  leant  too  much  to  the 
side  of  doubt,  was  not  followed  for  any  length  of  time, 
and  that  of  the  opposite  party  has  been  to  some  extent 
corrected  by  the  doctrine  that  the  senses  are  deceitful  in 
many  instances.  Nevertheless,  I do  not  know  that  this 
error  was  wholly  removed  by  showing  that  certitude  is 
not  in  the  senses,  but  in  the  understanding  alone  when 
it  has  clear  perceptions;  and  that  while  we  only  possess 
the  knowledge  which  is  acquired  in  the  first  four  grades 
of  wisdom,  we  ought  not  to  doubt  of  the  things  that  appear 
to  be  true  in  what  regards  the  conduct  of  life,  nor  esteem 
them  as  so  certain  that  we  cannot  change  our  opinions 
regarding  them,  even  though  constrained  by  the  evidence 
of  reason. 

From  ignorance  of  this  truth,  or,  if  there  was  anyone 
to  whom  it  was  known,  from  neglect  of  it,  the  majority 
of  those  who  in  these  latter  ages  aspired  to  be  philoso- 
phers, blindly  followed  Aristotle,  so  that  they  frequently 
corrupted  the  sense  of  his  writings,  and  attributed  to 
him  various  opinions  which  he  would  not  recognize  as 
his  own  were  he  now  to  return  to  the  world;  and  those 
who  did  not  follow  him,  among  whom  are  to  be  found 
many  of  the  greatest  minds,  did  yet  not  escape  being 
imbued  with  his  opinions  in  their  youth,  as  these  form 
the  staple  of  instruction  in  the  schools;  and  thus  their 
minds  were  so  preoccupied  that  they  could  not  rise  to 
the  knowledge  of  true  principles.  And  though  I hold 
all  the  philosophers  in  esteem,  and  am  unwilling  to  in- 
cur odium  by  my  censure,  I can  adduce  a proof  of  my 
assertion,  which  I do  not  think  any  of  them  will  gainsay, 
which  is,  that  they  all  laid  down  as  a principle  what  they 
did  not  perfectly  know.  For  example,  I know  none  of 
them  who  did  not  suppose  that  there  was  gravity  in  ter- 
restrial bodies;  but  although  experience  shows  us  very 
clearly  that  bodies  we  call  heavy  descend  toward  the 
center  of  the  earth,  we  do  not,  therefore,  know  the  na- 
ture of  gravity,  that  is,  the  cause  or  principle  in  virtue 


288 


PREFACE  TO  THE  PRINCIPLES 


of  which  bodies  descend,  and  we  must  derive  our  knowl- 
edge of  it  from  some  other  source.  The  same  may  be 
said  of  a vacuum  and  atoms,  of  heat  and  cold,  ©f  dry- 
ness and  humidity,  and  of  salt,  sulphur,  and  mercury, 
and  the  other  things  of  this  sort  which  some  have 
adopted  as  their  principles.  But  no  conclusion  deduced 
from  a principle  which  is  not  clear  can  be  evident,  even 
although  the  deduction  be  formally  valid;  and  hence  it 
follows  that  no  reasonings  based  on  such  principles  could 
lead  them  to  the  certain  knowledge  of  any  one  thing, 
nor  consequently  advance  them  one  step  in  the  search 
after  wisdom.  And  if  they  did  discover  any  truth,  this 
was  due  to  one  or  other  of  the  four  means  above  men- 
tioned. Notwithstanding  this,  I am  in  no  degree  desir- 
ous to  lessen  the  honor  which  each  of  them  can  justly 
claim;  I am  only  constrained  to  say,  for  the  consolation 
of  those  who  have  not  given  their  attention  to  study, 
that  just  as  in  traveling,  when  we  turn  our  back  upon 
the  place  to  which  we  are  going,  we  recede  the  farther 
from  it  in  proportion  as  we  proceed  in  the  new  direction 
for  a greater  length  of  time  and  with  greater  speed,  so 
that,  though  we  may  be  afterward  brought  back  to  the 
right  way,  we  cannot  nevertheless  arrive  at  the  des- 
tined place  as  soon  as  if  we  had  not  moved  backward  at 
all ; so  in  philosophy,  when  we  make  use  of  false  princi- 
ples, we  depart  the  farther  from  the  knowledge  of  truth 
and  wisdom  exactly  in  proportion  to  the  care  with  which 
we  cultivate  them,  and  apply  ourselves  to  the  deduction 
of  diverse  consequences  from  them,  thinking  that  we  are 
philosophizing  well,  while  we  are  only  departing  the  far- 
ther from  the  truth ; from  which  it  must  be  inferred  that 
they  who  have  learned  the  least  of  all  that  has  been 
hitherto  distinguished  by  the  name  of  philosophy  are  the 
most  fitted  for  the  apprehension  of  truth. 

After  making  those  matters  clear,  I should,  in  the 
next  place,  have  desired  to  set  forth  the  grounds  for 
holding  that  the  true  principles  by  which  we  may  reach 
that  highest  degree  of  wisdom  wherein  consists  the  sov- 
ereign good  of  human  life,  are  those  I have  proposed  in 
this  work;  and  two  considerations  alone  are  sufficient  to 
establish  this  — the  first  of  which  is,  that  these  principles 
are  very  clear,  and  the  second,  that  we  can  deduce  all 
other  truths  from  them;  for  it  is  only  these  two  condi- 


PREFACE  TO  THE  PRINCIPLES 


289 


tions  that  are  required  in  true  principles.  But  I easily 
prove  that  they  are  very  clear ; firstly,  by  a reference  to 
the  manner  in  which  I found  them,  namely,  by  rejecting 
all  propositions  that  were  in  the  least  doubtful,  for  it  is 
certain  that  such  as  could  not  be  rejected  by  this  test 
when  they  were  attentively  considered,  are  the  most  evi- 
dent and  clear  which  the  human  mind  can  know.  Thus 
by  considering  that  he  who  strives  to  doubt  of  all  is  un- 
able, nevertheless,  to  doubt  that  he  is  while  he  doubts, 
and  that  what  reasons  thus,  in  not  being  able  to  doubt 
of  itself  and  doubting,  nevertheless,  of  everything 
else,  is  not  that  which  we  call  our  body,  but  what  we 
name  our  mind  or  thought,  I have  taken  the  existence 
of  this  thought  for  the  first  principle,  from  which  I very 
clearly  deduce  the  following  truths,  namely,  that  there 
is  a God  who  is  the  author  of  all  that  is  in  the  world, 
and  who,  being  the  source  of  all  truth,  cannot  have  cre- 
ated our  understanding  of  such  a nature  as  to  be  deceived 
in  the  judgments  it  forms  of  the  things  of  which  it  pos- 
sesses a very  clear  and  distinct  perception.  Those  are  all 
the  principles  of  which  I avail  myself  touching  imma- 
terial or  metaphysical  objects,  from  which  I most  clearly 
deduce  these  other  principles  of  physical  or  corporeal 
things,  namely,  that  there  are  bodies  extended  in  length, 
breadth,  and  depth,  which  are  of  diverse  figures  and  are 
moved  in  a variety  of  ways.  Such  are  in  sum  the  prin- 
ciples from  which  I deduce  all  other  truths.  The  second 
circumstance  that  proves  the  clearness  of  these  principles 
is,  that  they  have  been  known  in  all  ages,  and  even 
received  as  true  and  indubitable  by  all  men,  with  the 
exception  only  of  the  existence  of  God,  which  has  been 
doubted  by  some,  because  they  attributed  too  much  to 
the  perceptions  of  the  senses,  and  God  can  neither  be  seen 
nor  touched. 

But,  though  all  the  truths  which  I class  among  my 
principles  were  known  at  all  times,  and  by  all  men,  never- 
theless, there  has  been  no  one  up  to  the  present,  who,  so 
far  as  I know,  has  adopted  them  as  principles  of  philoso- 
phy: in  other  words,  as  such  that  we  can  deduce  from 
them  the  knowledge  of  whatever  else  is  in  the  world.  It 
accordingly  new  remains  for  me  to  prove  that  they  are 
such ; and  it  appears  to  me  that  I cannot  better  establish 
this  than  by  the  test  of  experience:  in  other  words,  by 
19 


290 


PREFACE  TO  THE  PRINCIPLE*, 


inviting  readers  to  peruse  the  following  work.  For,  though. 
I have  not  treated  in  it  of  all  matters  — that  being  im- 
possible — I think  I have  so  explained  all  of  which  I had 
occasion  to  treat,  that  they  who  read  it  attentively  will 
have  ground  for  the  persuasion  that  it  is  unnecessary  to 
seek  for  any  other  principles  than  those  I have  given,  in 
order  to  arrive  at  the  most  exalted  knowledge  of  which 
the  mind  of  man  is  capable;  especially  if,  after  the 
perusal  of  my  writings,  they  take  the  trouble  to  consider 
how  many  diverse  questions  are  therein  discussed  and 
explained,  and,  referring  to  the  writings  of  others,  they 
see  how  little  probability  there  is  in  the  reasons  that  are 
adduced  in  explanation  of  the  same  questions  by  princi- 
ples different  from  mine.  And  that  they  may  the  more 
easily  undertake  this,  I might  have  said  that  those  im- 
bued with  my  doctrines  have  much  less  difficulty  in  com- 
prehending the  writings  of  others,  and  estimating  their 
true  value,  than  those  who  have  not  been  so  imbued; 
and  this  is  precisely  the  opposite  of  what  I before  said 
of  such  as  commenced  with  the  ancient  philosophy, 
namely,  that  the  more  they  have  studied  it  the  less  fit 
are  they  for  rightly  apprehending  the  truth. 

I should  also  have  added  a word  of  advice  regarding 
the  manner  of  reading  this  work,  which  is,  that  I should 
wish  the  reader  at  first  to  go  over  the  whole  of  it,  as  he 
would  a romance,  without  greatly  straining  his  attention, 
or  tarrying  at  the  difficulties  he  may  perhaps  meet  with 
in  it,  with  the  view  simply  of  knowing  in  general  the 
matters  of  which  I treat;  and  that  afterward,  if  they 
seem  to  him  to  merit  a more  careful  examination,  and  he 
feel  a desire  to  know  their  causes,  he  may  read  it  a 
second  time,  in  order  to  observe  the  connection  of  my 
reasonings ; but  that  he  must  not  then  give  up  in  despair, 
although  he  may  not  everywhere  sufficiently  discover  the 
connection  of  the  proof,  or  understand  all  the  reasonings 
— it  being  only  necessary  to  mark  with  a pen  the  places 
where  the  difficulties  occur,  and  continue  to  read  without 
interruption  to  the  end;  then  if  he  does  not  grudge  to 
take  up  the  book  a third  time,  I am  confident  he  will 
find  in  a fresh  perusal  the  solution  of  most  of  the 
difficulties  he  will  have  marked  before;  and  that,  if  any 
still  remain,  their  solution  will  in  the  end  be  found  in 
another  reading. 


PREFACE  TO  THE  PRINCIPLES 


29 


I have  observed,  on  examining  the  natural  constitutions 
of  different  minds,  that  there  are  hardly  any  so  dull  or 
slow  of  understanding  as  to  be  incapable  of  apprehending 
good  opinions,  or  even  of  acquiring  all  the  highest 
sciences  if  they  be  but  conducted  along  the  right  road. 
And  this  can  also  be  proved  by  reason;  for  as  the  prin- 
ciples are  clear,  and  as  nothing  ought  to  be  deduced  from 
them,  unless  most  manifest  inferences,  no  one  is  so  devoid 
of  intelligence  as  to  be  unable  to  comprehend  the  con- 
clusions that  flow  from  them.  But,  besides  the  entangle- 
ment of  prejudices,  from  which  no  one  is  entirely  exempt, 
although  it  is  they  who  have  been  the  most  ardent  stu- 
dents of  the  false  sciences  that  receive  the  greatest  detri- 
ment from  them,  it  happens  very  generally  that  people 
of  ordinary  capacity  neglect  to  study  from  a conviction 
that  they  want  ability,  and  that  others,  who  are  more 
ardent,  press  on  too  rapidly:  whence  it  comes  to  pass 
that  they  frequently  admit  principles  far  from  evident, 
and  draw  doubtful  inferences  from  them.  For  this  reason, 
I should  wish  to  assure  those  who  are  too  distrustful  of 
their  own  abTity  that  there  is  nothing  in  my  writings 
which  they  may  not  entirely  understand,  if  they  only 
take  the  trouble  to  examine  them;  and  I should  wish,  at 
the  same  time,  to  warn  those  of  an  opposite  tendency 
that  even  the  most  superior  minds  will  have  need  of 
much  time  and  attention  to  remark  all  I designed  to 
embrace  therein. 

After  this,  that  I might  lead  men  to  understand  the  real 
design  I had  in  publishing  them,  I should  have  wished 
here  to  explain  the  order  which  it  seems  to  me  one  ought 
to  follow  with  the  view  of  instructing  himself.  In  the 
first  place,  a man  who  has  merely  the  vulgar  and  imper- 
fect knowledge  which  can  be  acquired  by  the  four  means 
above  explained,  ought,  before  all  else,  to  endeavor  to 
form  for  himself  a code  of  morals  sufficient  to  regulate 
the  actions  of  his  life,  as  well  for  the  reason  that  this  does 
not  admit  of  delay  as  because  it  ought  to  be  our  first  care 
to  live  well.  In  the  next  place,  he  ought  to  study  Logic, 
not  that  of  the  schools,  for  it  is  only,  properly  speaking, 
a dialectic  which  teaches  the  mode  of  expounding  to  others 
what  we  already  know,  or  even  of  speaking  much,  without 
judgment,  of  what  we  do  not  know,  by  which  means  it  cor- 
rupts rather  than  increases  good  sense  — but  the  logic 


292 


PREFACE  TO  THE  PRINCIPLES 


which  teaches  the  right  conduct  of  the  reason  with  the 
view  of  discovering  the  truths  of  which  we  are  ignorant; 
and,  because  it  greatly  depends  on  usage,  it  is  desirable 
he  should  exercise  himself  for  a length  of  time  in  prac- 
ticing its  rules  on  easy  and  simple  questions,  as  those  of 
the  mathematics.  Then,  when  he  has  acquired  some  skill 
in  discovering  the  truth  in  these  questions,  he  should 
commence  to  apply  himself  in  earnest  to  true  philosophy, 
of  which  the  first  part  is  Metaphysics,  containing  the  prin- 
ciples of  knowledge,  among  which  is  the  explication  of  the 
principal  attributes  of  God,  of  the  immateriality  of  the 
soul,  and  of  all  the  clear  and  simple  notions  that  are  in  us ; 
the  second  is  Physics,  in  which,  after  finding  the  true  prin- 
ciples of  material  things,  we  examine,  in  general,  how  the 
whole  universe  has  been  framed;  in  the  next  place,  we 
consider,  in  particular,  the  nature  of  the  earth,  and  of  all 
the  bodies  that  are  most  generally  found  upon  it,  as  air, 
water,  fire,  3 loadstone  and  other  minerals.  In  the  next 
place,  it  is  necessary  also  to  examine  singly  the  nature  of 
plants,  of  animals,  and  above  all  of  man,  in  order  that  we 
may  thereafter  be  able  to  discover  the  other  sciences  that 
are  useful  to  us.  Thus,  all  Philosophy  is  like  a tree,  of 
which  Metaphysics  is  the  root,  Physics  the  trunk,  and  all 
the  other  sciences  the  branches  that  grow  out  of  this 
trunk,  which  are  reduced  to  three  principal,  namely, 
Medicine,  Mechanics,  and  Ethics.  By  the  science  of 
Morals,  I understand  the  highest  and  most  perfect  which, 
presupposing  an  entire  knowledge  of  the  other  sciences, 
is  the  last  degree  of  wisdom. 

But  as  it  is  not  from  the  roots  or  the  trunks  of  trees 
that  we  gather  the  fruit,  but  only  from  the  extremities 
of  their  branches,  so  the  principal  utility  of  philosophy 
depends  on  the  separate  uses  of  its  parts,  which  we  can 
only  learn  last  of  all.  But,  though  I am  ignorant  of  al- 
most all  these,  the  zeal  I have  always  felt  in  endeavor- 
ing to  be  of  service  to  the  public,  was  the  reason  why  I 
published,  some  ten  or  twelve  years  ago,  certain  Essays 
on  the  doctrines  I thought  I had  acquired.  The  first 
part  of  these  Essays  was  a <(  Discourse  on  the  Method  of 
rightly  conducting  the  Reason,  and  seeking  Truth  in  the 
Sciences,”  in  which  I gave  a summary  of  the  principal 
rules  of  logic,  and  also  of  an  imperfect  ethic,  which  a 
person  may  follow  provisionally  so  long  as  he  does  not 


PREFACE  TO  THE  PRINCIPLES 


293 


know  any  better.  The  other  parts  were  three  treatises: 
the  first  of  Dioptrics,  the  second  of  Meteors,  and  the 
third  of  Geometry.  In  the  Dioptrics,  I designed  to  show 
that  we  might  proceed  far  enough  in  philosophy  as  to 
arrive,  by  its  means,  at  the  knowledge  of  the  arts  that 
are  useful  to  life,  because  the  invention  of  the  telescope, 
of  which  I there  gave  an  explanation,  is  one  of  the  most 
difficult  that  has  ever  been  made.  In  the  treatise  of 
Meteors,  I desired  to  exhibit  the  difference  that  subsists 
between  the  philosophy  I cultivate  and  that  taught  in 
the  schools,  in  which  the  same  matters  are  usually  dis- 
cussed. In  fine,  in  the  Geometry,  I professed  to  demon- 
strate that  I had  discovered  many  things  that  were  before 
unknown,  and  thus  afford  ground  for  believing  that  we 
may  still  discover  many  others,  with  the  view  of  thus 
stimulating  all  to  the  investigation  of  truth.  Since  that 
period,  anticipating  the  difficulty  which  many  would  ex- 
perience in  apprehending  the  foundations  of  the  Meta- 
physics, I endeavored  to  explain  the  chief  points  of  them 
in  a book  of  Meditations,  which  is  not  in  itself  large, 
but  the  size  of  which  has  been  increased,  and  the  matter 
greatly  illustrated,  by  the  Objections  which  several  very 
learned  persons  sent  to  me  on  occasion  of  it,  and  by  the 
Replies  which  I made  to  them.  At  length,  after  it  ap- 
peared to  me  that  those  preceding  treatises  had  sufficiently 
prepared  the  minds  of  my  readers  for  the  <(  Principles  of 
Philosophy,  ® I also  published  it;  and  I have  divided  this 
work  into  four  parts,  the  first  of  which  contains  the 
principles  of  human  knowledge,  and  which  may  be  called 
the  First  Philosophy,  or  Metaphysics.  That  this  part, 
accordingly,  may  be  properly  understood,  it  will  be  nec- 
essary to  read  beforehand  the  book  of  Meditations  I 
wrote  on  the  same  subject.  The  other  three  parts  con- 
tain all  that  is  most  general  in  Physics,  namely,  the 
explication  of  the  first  laws  or  principles  of  nature,  and 
the  way  in  which  the  heavens,  the  fixed  stars,  the  plan- 
ets, comets,  and  generally  the  whole  universe,  were  com- 
posed; in  the  next  place,  the  explication,  in  particular, 
of  the  nature  of  this  earth,  the  air,  water,  fire,  the  mag- 
net, which  are  the  bodies  we  most  commonly  find  every- 
where around  it,  and  of  all  the  qualities  we  observe  in 
these  bodies,  as  light,  heat,  gravity,  and  the  like.  In 
this  way,  it  seems  to  me,  I have  commenced  the  orderly 


294 


PREFACE  TO  THE  PRINCIPLES 


explanation  of  the  whole  of  philosophy,  without  omitting 
any  of  the  matters  that  ought  to  precede  the  last  which 
I discussed. 

But  to  bring  this  undertaking  to  its  conclusion,  I ought 
hereafter  to  explain,  in  the  same  manner,  the  nature  of 
the  other  more  particular  bodies  that  are  on  the  earth, 
namely,  minerals,  plants,  animals,  and  especially  man; 
finally  to  treat  thereafter  with  accuracy  of  Medicine, 
Ethics,  and  Mechanics.  I should  require  to  do  this  in 
order  to  give  to  the  world  a complete  body  of  philoso- 
phy; and  I do  not  yet  feel  myself  so  old,  I do  not  so 
much  distrust  my  strength,  nor  do  I find  myself  so  far 
removed  from  the  knowledge  of  what  remains,  as  that  I 
should  not  dare  to  undertake  to  complete  this  design, 
provided  I were  in  a position  to  make  all  the  experi- 
ments which  I should  require  for  the  basis  and  verifica- 
tion of  my  reasonings.  But  seeing  that  would  demand 
a great  expenditure,  to  which  the  resources  of  a private 
individual  like  myself  would  not  be  adequate,  unless 
aided  by  the  public,  and  as  I have  no  ground  to  expect 
this  aid,  I believe  that  I ought  for  the  future  to  content 
myself  with  studying  for  my  own  instruction,  and  pos- 
terity will  excuse  me  if  I fail  hereafter  to  labor  for  them. 

Meanwhile,  that  it  may  be  seen  wherein  I think  I 
have  already  promoted  the  general  good,  I will  here 
mention  the  fruits  that  may  be  gathered  from  my  Prin- 
ciples. The  first  is  the  satisfaction  which  the  mind  will 
experience  on  finding  in  the  work  many  truths  before 
unknown;  for  although  frequently  truth  does  not  so 
greatly  affect  our  imagination  as  falsity  and  fiction,  be- 
cause it  seems  less  wonderful  and  is  more  simple,  yet 
the  gratification  it  affords  is  always  more  durable  and 
solid.  The  second  fruit  is,  that  in  studying  these  prin- 
ciples we  will  become  accustomed  by  degrees  to  judge 
better  of  all  the  things  we  come  in  contact  with,  and 
thus  be  made  wiser,  in  which  respect  the  effect  will  be 
quite  the  opposite  to  the  common  philosophy,  for  we 
may  easily  remark  in  those  we  call  pedants  that  it  ren- 
ders them  less  capable  of  rightly  exercising  their  reason 
than  they  would  have  been  if  they  had  never  known  it. 
The  third  is,  that  the  truths  which  they  contain,  being 
highly  clear  and  certain,  will  take  away  all  ground  of 
dispute,  and  thus  dispose  men’s  minds  to  gentleness  and 


PREFACE  TO  THE  PRINCIPLES 


295 


concord;  whereas  the  contrary  is  the  effect  of  the  con- 
troversies of  the  schools,  which,  as  they  insensibly  ren- 
der those  who  are  exercised  in  them  more  wrangling 
and  opinionative,  are  perhaps  the  prime  cause  of  the 
heresies  and  dissensions  that  now  harass  the  world. 
The  last  and  chief  fruit  of  these  Principles  is,  that  one 
will  be  able,  by  cultivating  them,  to  discover  many 
truths  I myself  have  not  unfolded,  and  thus  passing  by 
degrees  from  one  to  another,  to  acquire  in  course  of 
time  a perfect  knowledge  of  the  whole  of  philosophy, 
and  to  rise  to  the  highest  degree  of  wisdom.  For  just 
as  all  the  arts,  though  in  their  beginnings  they  are  rude 
and  imperfect,  are  yet  gradually  perfected  by  practice, 
from  their  containing  at  first  something  true,  and  whose 
effect  experience  evinces ; so  in  philosophy,  when  we 
have  true  principles,  we  cannot  fail  by  following  them 
to  meet  sometimes  with  other  truths;  and  we  could  not 
better  prove  the  falsity  of  those  of  Aristotle,  than  by 
saying  that  men  made  no  progress  in  knowledge  by  their 
means  during  the  many  ages  they  prosecuted  them. 

I well  know  that  there  are  some  men  so  precipitate 
and  accustomed  to  use  so  little  circumspection  in  what 
they  do,  that,  even  with  the  most  solid  foundations,  they 
could  not  rear  a firm  superstructure ; and  as  it  is  usually 
those  who  are  the  readiest  to  make  books,  they  would  in 
a short  time  mar  all  that  I have  done,  and  introduce 
uncertainty  and  doubt  into  my  manner  of  philosophizing, 
from  which  I have  carefully  endeavored  to  banish  them, 
if  people  were  to  receive  their  writings  as  mine,  or  as 
representing  my  opinions.  I had,  not  long  ago,  some 
experience  of  this  in  one  of  those  who  were  believed  de- 
sirous of  following  me  the  most  closely,  and  one  too  of 
whom  I had  somewhere  said  that  I had  such  confidence 
in  his  genius  as  to  believe  that  he  adhered  to  no  opin- 
ions which  I should  not  be  ready  to  avow  as  mine ; for 
he  last  year  published  a book  entitled  (<  Fundamenta 
Physicae,”  in  which,  although  he  seems  to  have  written 
nothing  on  the  subject  of  Physics  and  Medicine  which 
he  did  not  take  from  my  writings,  as  well  from  those  I 
have  published  as  from  another  still  imperfect  on  the 
nature  of  animals,  which  fell  into  his  hands;  neverthe- 
less, because  he  has  copied  them  badly,  and  changed  the 
order,  and  denied  certain  metaphysical  truths  upon  which 


396 


PREFACE  TO  THE  PRINCIPLES 


all  Physics  ought  to  be  based,  I am  obliged  wholly  to 
disavow  his  work,  and  here  to  request  readers  not  to  at- 
tribute to  me  any  opinion  unless  they  find  it  expressly 
stated  in  my  own  writings,  and  to  receive  no  opinion  as 
true,  whether  in  my  writings  or  elsewhere,  unless  they 
see  that  it  is  very  clearly  deduced  from  true  principles. 

I well  know,  likewise,  that  many  ages  may  elapse  ere 
all  the  truths  deducible  from  these  principles  are  evolved 
out  of  them,  as  well  because  the  greater  number  of  such 
as  remain  to  be  discovered  depend  on  certain  particular 
experiments  that  never  occur  by  chance,  but  which  re- 
quire to  be  investigated  with  care  and  expense  by  men 
of  the  highest  intelligence,  as  because  it  will  hardly  hap- 
pen that  the  same  persons  who  have  the  sagacity  to  make 
a right  use  of  them,  will  possess  also  the  means  of  making 
them,  and  also  because  the  majority  of  the  best  minds 
have  formed  so  low  an  estimate  of  philosophy  in  general, 
from  the  imperfections  they  have  remarked  in  the  kind 
in  vogue  up  to  the  present  time,  that  they  cannot  apply 
themselves  to  the  search  after  truth. 

But  in  conclusion,  if  the  difference  discernible  between 
the  principles  in  question  and  those  of  every  other  sys- 
tem, and  the  great  array  of  truths  deducible  from  them, 
lead  them  to  discern  the  importance  of  continuing  the 
search  after  these  truths,  and  to  observe  the  degree  of 
wisdom,  the  perfection  and  felicity  of  life,  to  which  they 
are  fitted  to  conduct  us,  I venture  to  believe  that  there 
will  not  be  found  one  who  is  not  ready  to  labor  hard  in 
so  profitable  a study,  or  at  least  to  favor  and  aid  with 
all  his  might  those  who  shall  devote  themselves  to  it  with 
success. 

The  height  of  my  wishes  is,  that  posterity  may  some- 
time behold  the  happy  issue  of  it,  etc. 


TO  THE  MOST  SERENE  PRINCESS, 

ELISABETH, 

Eldest  Daughter  of  Frederick,  King  of  Bohemia, 
Count  Palatine,  and  Elector  of  the 
Sacred  Roman  Empire. 


Madam, — The  greatest  advantage  I have  derived  from 
the  writings  which  I have  already  published,  has  arisen 
from  my  having,  through  means  of  them,  become  known 
to  your  Highness,  and  thus  been  privileged  to  hold  occa- 
sional converse  with  one  in  whom  so  many  rare  and 
estimable  qualities  are  united,  as  to  lead  me  to  believe 
I should  do  service  to  the  public  by  proposing  them  as 
an  example  to  posterity.  It  would  ill  become  me  to 
flatter,  or  to  give  expression  to  anything  of  which  I had 
no  certain  knowledge,  especially  in  the  first  pages  of  a 
work  in  which  I aim  at  laying  down  the  principles  of 
truth.  And  the  generous  modesty  that  is  conspicuous  in 
all  your  actions,  assures  me  that  the  frank  and  simple 
judgment  of  a man  who  only  writes  what  he  believes 
will  be  more  agreeable  to  you  than  the  ornate  laudations 
of  those  who  have  studied  the  art  of  compliment.  For 
this  reason,  I will  give  insertion  to  nothing  in  this  letter 
for  which  I have  not  the  certainty  both  of  experience 
and  reason;  and  in  the  exordium,  as  in  the  rest  of  the 
work,  I will  write  only  as  becomes  a philosopher.  There 
is  a vast  difference  between  real  and  apparent  virtues; 
and  there  is  also  a great  discrepancy  between  those  real 
virtues  that  proceed  from  an  accurate  knowledge  of  the 
truth,  and  such  as  are  accompanied  with  ignorance  or 
error.  The  virtues  I call  apparent  are  only,  properly 
speaking,  vices,  which,  as  they  are  less  frequent  than  the 
vices  that  are  opposed  to  them,  and  are  farther  removed 
from  them  than  the  intermediate  virtues,  are  usually  held 

(297) 


29S 


DEDICATION 


in  higher  esteem  than  those  virtues.  Thus,  because  those 
who  fear  dangers  too  much  are  more  numerous  than  they 
who  fear  them  too  little,  temerity  is  frequently  opposed  to 
the  vice  of  timidity,  and  taken  for  a virtue,  and  is  com- 
monly more  highly  esteemed  than  true  fortitude.  Thus, 
also,  the  prodigal  are  in  ordinary  more  praised  than  the 
liberal;  and  none  more  easily  acquire  a great  reputation 
for  piety  than  the  superstitious  and  hypocritical.  With 
regard  to  true  virtues,  these  do  not  all  proceed  from  true 
knowledge,  for  there  are  some  that  likewise  spring  from 
defect  or  error:  thus,  simplicity  is  frequently  the  source 
of  goodness,  fear  of  devotion,  and  despair  of  courage.  The 
virtues  that  are  thus  accompanied  with  some  imperfections 
differ  from  each  other,  and  have  received  diverse  appella- 
tions. But  those  pure  and  perfect  virtues  that  arise  from 
the  knowledge  of  good  alone,  are  all  of  the  same  nature, 
and  may  be  comprised  under  the  single  term  wisdom. 
For,  whoever  owns  the  firm  and  constant  resolution  of 
always  using  his  reason  as  well  as  lies  in  his  power,  and 
in  all  his  actions  of  doing  what  he  judges  to  be  best,  is 
truly  wise,  as  far  as  his  nature  permits ; and  by  this 
alone  he  is  just,  courageous,  temperate,  and  possesses  all 
the  other  virtues,  but  so  well  balanced  as  that  none  of 
them  appears  more  prominent  than  another:  and  for 
this  reason,  although  they  are  much  more  perfect  than 
the  virtues  that  blaze  forth  through  the  mixture  of 
some  defect,  yet,  because  the  crowd  thus  observes  them 
less,  they  are  not  usually  extolled  so  highly.  Besides, 
of  the  two  things  that  are  requisite  for  the  wisdom  thus 
described,  namely,  the  perception  of  the  understanding 
and  the  disposition  of  the  will,  it  is  only  that  which 
lies  in  the  will  which  all  men  can  possess  equally,  inas- 
much as  the  understanding  of  some  is  inferior  to  that  of 
others.  But  although  those  who  have  only  an  inferior 
understanding  may  be  as  perfectly  wise  as  their  nature 
permits,  and  may  render  themselves  highly  acceptable  to 
God  by  their  virtue,  provided  the}7  preserve  always  a 
firm  and  constant  resolution  to  do  all  that  they  shall 
judge  to  be  right,  and  to  omit  nothing  that  may  lead 
them  to  the  knowledge  of  the  duties  of  which  they  are 
ignorant;  nevertheless,  those  who  preserve  a constant 
resolution  of  performing  the  right,  and  are  especially 


DEDICATION 


299 


careful  in  instructing-  themselves,  and  who  possess  also 
a highly  perspicacious  intellect,  arrive  doubtless  at  a 
higher  degree  of  wisdom  than  others;  and  I see  that 
these  three  particulars  are  found  in  great  perfection  in 
your  Highness.  For,  in  the  first  place,  your  desire  of 
self-instruction  is  manifest,  from  the  circumstance  that 
neither  the  amusements  of  the  court,  nor  the  accustomed 
mode  of  educating  ladies,  which  ordinarily  condemns 
them  to  ignorance,  have  been  sufficient  to  prevent  you 
from  studying  with  much  care  all  that  is  best  in  the 
arts  and  sciences;  and  the  incomparable  perspicacity  of 
your  intellect  is  evinced  by  this,  that  you  penetrated  the 
secrets  of  the  sciences  and  acquired  an  accurate  knowl- 
edge of  them  in  a very  short  period.  But  of  the  vigor 
of  your  intellect  I have  a still  stronger  proof,  and  one 
peculiar  to  myself,  in  that  I have  never  yet  met  any  one 
who  understood  so  generally  and  so  well  as  yourself  all 
that  is  contained  in  my  writings.  For  there  are  several, 
even  among  men  of  the  highest  intellect  and  learning, 
who  find  them  very  obscure.  And  I remark,  in  almost 
all  those  who  are  versant  in  Metaphysics,  that  they  are 
wholly  disinclined  from  Geometry;  and,  on  the  other 
hand,  that  the  cultivators  of  Geometry  have  no  ability 
for  the  investigations  of  the  First  Philosophy:  insomuch 
that  I can  say  with  truth  I know  but  one  mind,  and 
that  is  your  own,  to  which  both  studies  are  alike  con- 
genial, and  which  I therefore,  with  propriety,  designate 
incomparable.  But  what  most  of  all  enhances  my 
admiration  is,  that  so  accurate  and  varied  an  acquaintance 
with  the  whole  circle  of  the  sciences  is  not  found  in 
some  aged  doctor  who  has  employed  many  years  in  con- 
templation, but  in  a Princess  still  young,  and  whose 
countenance  and  years  would  more  fitly  represent  one  of 
the  Graces  than  a Muse  or  the  sage  Minerva.  In  con- 
clusion, I not  only  remark  in  your  Highness  all  that  is 
requisite  on  the  part  of  the  mind  to  perfect  and  sublime 
wisdom,  but  also  all  that  can  be  required  on  the  part  of 
the  will  or  the  manners,  in  which  benignity  and  gentle- 
ness are  so  conjoined  with  majesty  that,  though  fortune 
has  attacked  you  with  continued  injustice,  it  has  failed 
either  to  irritate  or  crush  you.  And  this  constrains  me 
to  such  veneration  that  I not  only  think  this  work  due 


300 


DEDICATION 


to  you,  since  it  treats  of  philosophy  which  is  the  study 
of  wisdom,  but  likewise  feel  not  more  zeal  for  my 
reputation  as  a philosopher  than  pleasure  in  subscribing 
myself, 

Of  your  most  Serene  Highness, 

The  most  devoted  servant, 

Descartes. 


THE  PRINCIPLES  OF  PHILOSOPHY. 


PART  I. 

Of  the  Principles  of  Human  Knowledge. 

I.  That  in  order  to  seek  truth,  it  is  necessary  once 
in  the  course  of  our  life,  to  doubt,  as  far  as  possible,  of 
all  things. 

As  we  were  at  one  time  children,  and  as  we  formed 
various  judgments  regarding  the  objects  presented  to  our 
senses,  when  as  yet  we  had  not  the  entire  use  of  our 
reason,  numerous  prejudices  stand  in  the  way  of  our 
arriving  at  the  knowledge  of  truth;  and  of  these  it  seems 
impossible  for  us  to  rid  ourselves,  unless  we  undertake, 
once  in  our  lifetime,  to  doubt  all  of  those  things  in  which 
we  may  discover  even  the  smallest  suspicion  of  uncer- 
tainty. 

II.  That  we  ought  also  to  consider  as  false  all  that  is 
doubtful. 

Moreover,  it  will  be  useful  likewise  to  esteem  as  false 
the  things  of  which  we  shall  be  able  to  doubt,  that  we 
may  with  greater  clearness  discover  what  possesses  most 
certainty  and  is  the  easiest  to  know. 

III.  That  we  ought  not  meanwhile  to  make  use  of 
doubt  in  the  conduct  of  life. 

In  the  meantime,  it  is  to  be  observed  that  we  are  to 
avail  ourselves  of  this  general  doubt  only  while  engaged 
in  the  contemplation  of  truth.  For,  as  far  as  concerns 
the  conduct  of  life,  we  are  very  frequently  obliged  to 
follow  opinions  merely  probable,  or  even  sometimes, 
though  of  two  courses  of  action  we  may  not  perceive 
more  probability  in  the  one  than  in  the  other,  to  choose 
one  or  other,  seeing  the  opportunity  of  acting  would  not 
unfrequently  pass  away  before  we  could  free  ourselves 
from  our  doubts. 


(301) 


302 


THE  PRINCIPLES  OF  PHILOSOPHY 


IV.  Why  we  may  doubt  of  sensible  things. 

Accordingly,  since  we  now  only  design  to  apply  our- 
selves to  the  investigation  of  truth,  we  will  doubt,  first, 
whether  of  all  the  things  that  have  ever  fallen  under 
our  senses,  or  which  we  have  ever  imagined,  any  one 
really  exist;  in  the  first  place,  because  we  know  by  ex- 
perience that  the  senses  sometimes  err,  and  it  would  be 
imprudent  to  trust  too  much  to  what  has  even  once  de- 
ceived us;  secondly,  because  in  dreams  we  perpetually 
seem  to  perceive  or  imagine  innumerable  objects  which 
have  no  existence.  And  to  one  who  has  thus  resolved 
upon  a general  doubt,  there  appear  no  marks  by  which 
he  can  with  certainty  distinguish  sleep  from  the  waking 
state. 

V.  Why  we  may  also  doubt  of  mathematical  demon- 
strations. 

We  will  also  doubt  of  the  other  things  we  have  before 
held  as  most  certain,  even  of  the  demonstrations  of 
mathematics,  and  of  their  principles  which  we  have 
hitherto  deemed  self-evident;  in  the  first  place,  because 
we  have  sometimes  seen  men  fall  into  error  in  such  mat- 
ters, and  admit  as  absolutely  certain  and  self-evident  what 
to  us  appeared  false,  but  chiefly  because  we  have  learned 
that  God  who  created  us  is  all-powerful;  for  we  do  not 
yet  know  whether  perhaps  it  was  his  will  to  create  us  so 
that  we  are  always  deceived,  even  in  the  things  we  think 
we  know  best;  since  this  does  not  appear  more  impossible 
than  our  being  occasionally  deceived,  which,  however,  as 
observation  teaches  us,  is  the  case.  And  if  we  suppose 
that  an  all-powerful  God  is  not  the  author  of  our  being, 
and  that  we  exist  of  ourselves  or  by  some  other  means, 
still,  the  less  powerful  we  suppose  our  author  to  be,  the 
greater  reason  will  we  have  for  believing  that  we  are 
not  so  perfect  as  that  we  may  not  be  continually  deceived. 

VI.  That  we  possess  a free  will,  by  which  we  can 
withhold  our  assent  from  what  is  doubtful,  and  thus  avoid 
error. 

But  meanwhile,  whoever  in  the  end  may  be  the  author 
of  our  being,  and  however  powerful  and  deceitfnl  he  may 
be,  we  are  nevertheless  conscious  of  a freedom,  by  which 
we  can  refrain  from  admitting  to  a place  in  our  belief 
aught  that  is  not  manifestly  certain  and  undoubted,  and 
thus  guard  against  ever  being  deceived. 


PART  I 


3°3 


VII.  That  we  cannot  doubt  of  our  existence  while  we 
doubt,  and  that  this  is  the  first  knowledge  we  acquire 
when  we  philosophize  in  order. 

While  we  thus  reject  all  of  which  we  can  entertain 
the  smallest  doubt,  and  even  imagine  that  it  is  false,  we 
easily  indeed  suppose  that  there  is  neither  God,  nor  sky, 
nor  bodies,  and  that  we  ourselves  even  have  neither 
hands  nor  feet,  nor,  finally,  a body ; but  we  cannot  in  the 
same  way  suppose  that  we  are  not  while  we  doubt  of  the 
truth  of  these  things;  for  there  is  a repugnance  in  con- 
ceiving that  what  thinks  does  not  exist  at  the  very  time 
when  it  thinks.  Accordingly,  the  knowledge,  I think, 
therefore  I am,  is  the  first  and  most  certain  that  occurs 
to  one  who  philosophizes  orderly. 

VIII.  That  we  hence  discover  the  distinction  between 
the  mind  and  the  body,  or  between  a thinking  and  cor- 
poreal thing. 

And  this  is  the  best  mode  of  discovering  the  nature 
of  the  mind,  and  its  distinctness  from  the  body:  for 
examining  what  we  are,  while  supposing,  as  we  now  do, 
that  there  is  nothing  really  existing  apart  from  our 
thought,  we  clearly  perceive  that  neither  extension,  nor 
figure,  nor  local  motion,*  nor  anything  similar  that  can 
be  attributed  to  body,  pertains  to  our  nature,  and  nothing 
save  thought  alone ; and,  consequently,  that  the  notion 
we  have  of  our  mind  precedes  that  of  any  corporeal  thing, 
and  is  more  certain,  seeing  we  still  doubt  whether  there 
is  any  body  in  existence,  while  we  already  perceive  that 
we  think. 

IX.  What  thought  ( cogitatio ) is. 

By  the  word  thought,  I understand  all  that  which  so 
takes  place  in  us  that  we  of  ourselves  are  immediately 
conscious  of  it;  and,  accordingly,  not  only  to  understand 
( intelligere , entendre ),  to  will  (velle),  to  imagine  ( imaginari ), 
but  even  to  perceive  {sentire,  sentir ),  are  here  the  same 
as  to  think  ( cogitare , penser).  For  if  I say,  I see,  or,  I 
walk,  therefore  I am;  and  if  I understand  by  vision  or 
walking  the  act  of  my  eyes  or  of  my  limbs,  which  is  the 
work  of  the  body,  the  conclusion  is  not  absolutely  certain, 
because,  as  is  often  the  case  in  dreams,  I may  think  that 
I see  or  walk,  although  I do  not  open  my  eyes  or  move 
from  my  place,  and  even,  perhaps,  although  I have  no 

* Instead  of  « local  motion, }>  the  French  has  « existence  in  any  place. » 


3°4 


THE  PRINCIPLES  OF  PHILOSOPHY 


body:  but,  if  I mean  the  sensation  itself,  or  conscious- 
ness of  seeing  or  walking,  the  knowledge  is  manifestly 
certain,  because  it  is  then  referred  to  the  mind,  which 
alone  perceives  or  is  conscious  that  it  sees  or  walks.* 

X.  That  the  notions  which  are  simplest  and  self-evident, 
are  obscured  by  logical  definitions ; and  that  such  are  not 
to  be  reckoned  among  the  cognitions  acquired  by  study, 
[but  as  born  with  us], 

I do  not  here  explain  several  other  terms  which  I have 
used,  or  design  to  use  in  the  sequel,  because  their  mean- 
ing seems  to  me  sufficiently  self-evident.  And  I fre- 
quently remarked  that  philosophers  erred  in  attempting 
to  explain,  by  logical  definitions,  such  truths  as  are  most 
simple  and  self-evident;  for  they  thus  only  render  them 
more  obscure.  And  when  I said  that  the  proposition,  I 
think,  therefore  I am,  is  of  all  others  the  first  and  most 
certain  which  occurs  to  one  philosophizing  orderly,  I did 
not  therefore  deny  that  it  was  necessary  to  know  what 
thought,  existence,  and  certitude  are,  and  the  truth  that, 
in  order  to  think  it  is  necessary  to  be,  and  the  like; 
but,  because  these  are  the  most  simple  notions,  and  such 
as  of  themselves  afford  the  knowledge  of  nothing  exist- 
ing, I did  not  judge  it  proper  there  to  enumerate  them. 

XI.  How  we  can  know  our  mind  more  clearly  than 
our  body. 

But  now  that  it  may  be  discerned  how  the  knowledge 
we  have  of  the  mind  not  only  precedes,  and  has  greater 
certainty,  but  is  even  clearer,  than  that  we  have  of  the 
body,  it  must  be  remarked,  as  a matter  that  is  highly 
manifest  by  the  natural  light,  that  to  nothing  no  affections 
or  qualities  belong;  and,  accordingly,  that  where  we  ob- 
serve certain  affections,  there  a thing  or  substance  to  which 
these  pertain,  is  necessarily  found.  The  same  light  also 
shows  us  that  we  know  a thing  or  substance  more  clearly 
in  proportion  as  we  discover  in  it  a greater  number  of 
qualities.  Now,  it  is  manifiest  that  we  remark  a greater 
number  of  qualities  in  our  mind  than  in  any  other  thing; 
for  there  is  no  occasion  on  which  we  know  anything  what- 
ever when  we  are  not  at  the  same  time  led  with  much 
greater  certainty  to  the  knowledge  of  our  own  mind.  For 
example,  if  I judge  that  there  is  an  earth  because  I touch 

*In  the  French,  <(  which  alone  has  the  power  of  perceiving,  or  of 
being  conscious  in  any  other  way  whatever. » 


PART  I 


305 


or  see  it,  on  the  same  ground,  and  with  still  greater  reason, 
I must  be  persuaded  that  my  mind  exists ; for  it  may  be, 
perhaps,  that  I think  I touch  the  earth  while  there  is  none 
in  existence;  but  it  is  not  possible  that  I should  so 
judge,  and  my  mind  which  thus  judges  not  exist;  and  the 
same  holds  good  of  whatever  object  is  presented  to  our 
mind. 

XII.  How  it  happens  that  everyone  does  not  come 
equally  to  know  this. 

Those  who  have  not  philosophized  in  order  have  had 
other  opinions  on  this  subject,  because  they  never  distin- 
guished with  sufficient  care  the  mind  from  the  body.  For, 
although  they  had  no  difficulty  in  believing  that  they 
themselves  existed,  and  that  they  had  a higher  assurance 
of  this  than  of  any  other  thing,  nevertheless,  as  they  did 
not  observe  that  by  themselves,  they  ought  here  to  un- 
derstand their  minds  alone  [when  the  question  related  to 
metaphysical  certainty] ; and  since,  on  the  contrary,  they 
rather  meant  their  bodies  which  they  saw  with  their 
eyes,  touched  with  their  hands,  and  to  which  they 
erroneously  attributed  the  faculty  of  perception,  they 
were  prevented  from  distinctly  apprehending  the  nature 
of  the  mind. 

XIII.  In  what  sense  the  knowledge  of  other  things 
depends  upon  the  knowledge  of  God. 

But  when  the  mind,  which  thus  knows  itself  but  is  still 
in  doubt  as  to  all  other  things,  looks  around  on  all  sides, 
with  a view  to  the  further  extension  of  its  knowledge,  it 
first  of  all  discovers  within  itself  the  ideas  of  many  things  ; 
and  while  it  simply  contemplates  them,  and  neither  affirms 
nor  denies  that  there  is  anything  beyond  itself  corre- 
sponding to  them,  it  is  in  no  danger  of  erring.  The  mind 
also  discovers  certain  common  notions  out  of  which  it 
frames  various  demonstrations  that  carry  conviction  to 
such  a degree  as  to  render  doubt  of  their  truth  impossi- 
ble, so  long  as  we  give  attention  to  them.  For  example, 
the  mind  has  within  itself  ideas  of  numbers  and  figures, 
and  it  has  likewise  among  its  common  notions  the  prin- 
ciple THAT  IF  EQUALS  BE  ADDED  TO  EQUALS  THE  WHOLES 

will  be  equal,  and  the  like;  from  which  it  is  easy  to 
demonstrate  that  the  three  angles  of  a triangle  are  equal 
to  two  right  angles,  etc.  Now,  so  long  as  we  attend  to 
the  premises  from  which  this  conclusion  and  others  sim- 
20 


3°6 


THE  PRINCIPLES  OF  PHILOSOPHY 


ilar  to  it  were  deduced,  we  feel  assured  of  their  truth; 
but,  as  the  mind  cannot  always  think  of  these  with  at- 
tention, when  it  has  the  remembrance  of  a conclusion 
without  recollecting  the  order  of  its  deduction,  and  is 
uncertain  whether  the  author  of  its  being  has  created  it 
of  a nature  that  is  liable  to  be  deceived,  even  in  what 
appears  most  evident,  it  perceives  that  there  is  just 
ground  to  distrust  the  truth  of  such  conclusions,  and 
that  it  cannot  possess  any  certain  knowledge  until  it  has 
discovered  its  author. 

XIV.  That  we  may  validly  infer  the  existence  of  God 
from  necessary  existence  being  comprised  in  the  concept 
we  have  of  him. 

When  the  mind  afterward  reviews  the  different  ideas 
that  are  in  it,  it  discovers  what  is  by  far  the  chief  among 
them  — that  of  a Being  omniscient,  all-powerful,  and 
absolutely  perfect ; and  it  observes  that  in  this  idea  there 
is  contained  not  only  possible  and  contingent  existence, 
as  in  the  ideas  of  all  other  things  which  it  clearly  per- 
ceives, but  existence  absolutely  necessary  and  eternal. 
And  just  as  because,  for  example,  the  equality  of  its  three 
angles  to  two  right  angles  is  necessarily  comprised  in  the 
idea  of  a triangle,  the  mind  is  firmly  persuaded  that  the 
three  angles  of  a triangle  are  equal  to  two  right  angles; 
so,  from  its  perceiving  necessary  and  eternal  existence  to 
be  comprised  in  the  idea  which  it  has  of  an  all-perfect 
Being,  it  ought  manifestly  to  conclude  that  this  all-per- 
fect Being  exists. 

XV.  That  necessary  existence  is  not  in  the  same  way 
comprised  in  the  notions  which  we  have  of  other  things, 
but  merely  contingent  existence. 

The  mind  will  be  still  more  certain  of  the  truth  of 
this  conclusion,  if  it  consider  that  it  has  no  idea  of  any 
other  thing  in  which  it  can  discover  that  necessary  exist- 
ence is  contained;  for,  from  this  circumstance  alone,  it 
will  discern  that  the  idea  of  an  all-perfect  Being  has  not 
been  framed  by  itself,  and  that  it  does  not  represent  a 
chimera,  but  a true  and  immutable  nature,  which  must 
exist  since  it  can  only  be  conceived  as  necessarily  existing. 

XVI.  That  prejudices  hinder  many  from  clearly  know- 
ing the  necessity  of  the  existence  of  God. 

Our  mind  would  have  no  difficulty  in  assenting  to  this 
truth,  if  it  were,  first  of  all,  wholly  free  from  prejudices; 


PART  I 


307 


but  as  we  have  been  accustomed  to  distinguish,  in  all 
other  things,  essence  from  existence,  and  to  imagine  at 
will  many  ideas  of  things  which  neither  are  nor  have  been, 
it  easily  happens,  when  we  do  not  steadily  fix  our  thoughts 
on  the  contemplation  of  the  all-perfect  Being,  that  a doubt 
arises  as  to  whether  the  idea  we  have  of  him  is  not  one 
of  those  which  we  frame  at  pleasure,  or  at  least  of  that 
class  to  whose  essence  existence  does  not  pertain. 

XVII.  That  the  greater  objective  (representative)  per- 
fection there  is  in  our  idea  of  a thing,  the  greater  also 
must  be  the  perfection  of  its  cause. 

When  we  further  reflect  on  the  various  ideas  that  are 
in  us,  it  is  easy  to  perceive  that  there  is  not  much  dif- 
ference among  them,  when  we  consider  them  simply  as 
certain  modes  of  thinking,  but  that  they  are  widely  dif- 
ferent, considered  in  reference  to  the  objects  they  repre- 
sent; and  that  their  causes  must  be  so  much  the  more 
perfect  according  to  the  degree  of  objective  perfection 
contained  in  them.*  For  there  is  no  difference  between 
this  and  the  case  of  a person  who  has  the  idea  of  a ma- 
chine, in  the  construction  of  which  great  skill  is  displayed, 
in  which  circumstances  we  have  a right  to  inquire  how 
he  came  by  this  idea,  whether,  for  example,  he  some- 
where saw  such  a machine  constructed  by  another,  or 
whether  he  was  so  accurately  taught  the  mechanical  sci- 
ences, or  is  endowed  with  such  force  of  genius,  that  he 
was  able  of  himself  to  invent  it,  without  having  else- 
where seen  anything  like  it;  for  all  the  ingenuity  which 
is  contained  in  the  idea  objectively  only,  or  as  it  were 
in  a picture,  must  exist  at  least  in  its  first  and  chief 
cause,  whatever  that  may  be,  not  only  objectively  or 
representatively,  but  in  truth  formally  or  eminently. 

XVIII.  That  the  existence  of  God  may  be  again  in- 
ferred from  the  above. 

Thus,  because  we  discover  in  our  minds  the  idea  of 
God,  or  of  an  all-perfect  Being,  we  have  a right  to 
inquire  into  the  source  whence  we  derive  it;  and  we  will 
discover  that  the  perfections  it  represents  are  so  immense 
as  to  render  it  quite  certain  that  we  could  only  derive 
it  from  an  all-perfect  Being;  that  is,  from  a God  really 
existing.  For  it  is  not  only  manifest  by  the  natural  light 

*<(As  what  they  represent  of  their  object  has  more  perfection.® — 
French. 


3°8 


THE  PRINCIPLES  OF  PHILOSOPHY 


that  nothing  cannot  be  the  cause  of  anything  whatever, 
and  that  the  more  perfect  cannot  arise  from  the  less  per- 
fect, so  as  to  be  thereby  produced  as  by  its  efficient  and 
total  cause,  but  also  that  it  is  impossible  we  can  have 
the  idea  or  representation  of  anything  whatever,  unless 
there  be  somewhere,  either  in  us  or  out  of  us,  an  orig- 
inal which  comprises,  in  reality,  all  the  perfections  that 
are  thus  represented  to  us ; but,  as  we  do  not  in  any  way 
find  in  ourselves  those  absolute  perfections  of  which  we 
have  the  idea,  we  must  conclude  that  they  exist  in  some 
nature  different  from  ours,  that  is,  in  God,  or  at  least 
that  they  were  once  in  him;  and  it  most  manifestly  fol- 
lows [from  their  infinity]  that  they  are  still  there. 

XIX.  That,  although  we  may  not  comprehend  the 
nature  of  God,  there  is  yet  nothing  which  we  know  so 
clearly  as  his  perfections. 

This  will  appear  sufficiently  certain  and  manifest  to 
those  who  have  been  accustomed  to  contemplate  the  idea 
of  God,  and  to  turn  their  thoughts  to  his  infinite  perfec- 
tions; for,  although  we  may  not  comprehend  them, 
because  it  is  of  the  nature  of  the  infinite  not  to  be  com- 
prehended by  what  is  finite,  we  nevertheless  conceive 
them  more  clearly  and  distinctly  than  material  objects, 
for  this  reason,  that,  being  simple,  and  unobscured  by 
limits,*  they  occupy  our  mind  more  fully. 

XX.  That  we  are  not  the  cause  of  ourselves,  but  that 
this  is  God,  and  consequently  that  there  is  a God. 

But,  because  every  one  has  not  observed  this,  and 
because  when  we  have  an  idea  of  any  machine  in  which 
great  skill  is  displayed,  we  usually  know  with  sufficient 
accuracy  the  manner  in  which  we  obtained  it,  and  as  we 
cannot  even  recollect  when  the  idea  we  have  of  a God 
was  communicated  to  us  by  him,  seeing  it  was  always  in 
our  minds,  it  is  still  necessary  that  we  should  continue 
our  review,  and  make  inquiry  after  our  author,  possess- 
ing, as  we  do,  the  idea  of  the  infinite  perfections  of  a 
God : for  it  is  in  the  highest  degree  evident  by  the 
natural  light,  that  that  which  knows  something  more 

* After  limits,  (<what  of  them  we  do  conceive  is  much  less  con- 
fused. There  is,  besides,  no  speculation  more  calculated  to  aid  in 
perfecting  our  understanding,  which  is  more  important  than  this,  inas- 
much as  the  consideration  of  an  object  that  has  no  limits  to  its  per- 
fections fills  us  with  satisfaction  and  assurance. » — French. 


PART  I 


309 


perfect  than  itself,  is  not  the  source  of  its  own  being, 
since  it  would  thus  have  given  to  itself  all  the  perfec- 
tions which  it  knows;  and  that,  consequently,  it  could 
draw  its  origin  from  no  other  being  than  from  him  who 
possesses  in  himself  all  these  perfections,  that  is,  from 
God. 

XXI.  That  the  duration  alone  of  our  life  is  sufficient  to 
demonstrate  the  existence  of  God. 

The  truth  of  this  demonstration  will  clearly  appear, 
provided  we  consider  the  nature  of  time,  or  the  duration 
of  things;  for  this  is  of  such  a kind  that  its  parts  are  not 
mutually  dependent,  and  never  co-existent;  and,  accord- 
ingly, from  the  fact  that  we  now  are,  it  does  not  neces- 
sarily follow  that  we  shall  -be  a moment  afterward, 
unless  some  cause,  viz,  that  which  first  produced  us, 
shall,  as  it  were,  continually  reproduce  us,  that  is,  con- 
serve us.  For  we  easily  understand  that  there  is  no 
power  in  us  by  which  we  can  conserve  ourselves,  and 
that  the  being  who  has  so  much  power  as  to  conserve 
us  out  of  himself,  must  also  by  so  much  the  greater 
reason  conserve  himself,  or  rather  stand  in  need  of 
being  conserved  by  no  one  whatever,  and,  in  fine,  be 
God. 

XXII.  That  in  knowing  the  existence  of  God,  in  the 
manner  here  explained,  we  likewise  know  all  his  attri- 
butes, as  far  as  they  can  be  known  by  the  natural  light 
alone. 

There  is  the  great  advantage  in  proving  the  existence 
of  God  in  this  way,  viz,  by  his  idea,  that  we  at  the  same 
time  know  what  he  is,  as  far  as  the  weakness  of  our  na- 
ture allows;  for,  reflecting  on  the  idea  we  have  of  him 
which  is  born  with  us,  we  perceive  that  he  is  eternal, 
omniscient,  omnipotent,  the  source  of  all  goodness  and 
truth,  creator  of  all  things,  and  that,  in  fine,  he  has  in 
himself  all  that  in  which  we  can  clearly  discover  any  in- 
finite perfection  or  good  that  is  not  limited  by  any  im- 
perfection. 

XXIII.  That  God  is  not  corporeal,  and  does  not  per- 
ceive by  means  of  senses  as  we  do,  or  will  the  evil  of 
sin. 

For  there  are  indeed  many  things  in  the  world  that 
are  to  a certain  extent  imperfect  or  limited,  though  pos- 
sessing also  some  perfection ; and  it  is  accordingly  impos- 


3io 


THE  PRINCIPLES  OF  PHILOSOPHY 


sible  that  any  such  can  be  in  God.  Thus,  looking  to 
corporeal  nature,*  since  divisibility  is  included  in  local 
extension,  and  this  indicates  imperfection,  it  is  certain 
that  God  is  not  body.  And  although  in  men  it  is  to  some 
degree  a perfection  to  be  capable  of  perceiving  by  means 
of  the  senses,  nevertheless  since  in  every  sense  there  is 
passivity  f which  indicates  dependency,  we  must  conclude 
that  God  is  in  no  manner  possessed  of  senses,  and  that 
he  only  understands  and  wills,  not,  however,  like  us,  by 
acts  in  any  way  distinct,  but  always  by  an  act  that  is  one, 
identical,  and  the  simplest  possible,  understands,  wills, 
and  operates  all,  that  is,  all  things  that  in  reality  exist; 
for  he  does  not  will  the  evil  of  sin,  seeing  this  is  but  the 
negation  of  being. 

XXIV.  That  in  passing  from  the  knowledge  of  God  to 
the  knowledge  of  the  creatures,  it  is  necessary  to  re- 
member that  our  understanding  is  finite,  and  the  power 
of  God  infinite. 

But  as  we  know  that  God  alone  is  the  true  cause  of  all 
that  is  or  can  be,  we  will  doubtless  follow  the  best  way 
of  philosophizing,  if,  from  the  knowledge  we  have  of  God 
himself,  we  pass  to  the  explication  of  the  things  which 
he  has  created,  and  essay  to  deduce  it  from  the  notions 
that  are  naturally  in  our  minds,  for  we  will  thus  ob- 
tain the  most  perfect  science,  that  is,  the  knowledge 
of  effects  through  their  causes.  But  that  we  may 
be  able  to  make  this  attempt  with  sufficient  security 
from  error,  we  must  use  the  precaution  to  bear  in  mind 
as  much  as  possible  that  God,  who  is  the  author  of  things, 
is  infinite,  while  we  are  wholly  finite. 

XXV.  That  we  must  believe  all  that  God  has  revealed, 
although  it  may  surpass  the  reach  of  our  faculties. 

Thus,  if  perhaps  God  reveal  to  us  or  others,  matters 
concerning  himself  which  surpass  the  natural  powers  of 
our  mind,  such  as  the  mysteries  of  the  incarnation  and  of 
the  trinity,  we  will  not  refuse  to  believe  them,  although 
we  may  not  clearly  understand  them;  nor  will  we  be  in 
any  way  surprised  to  find  in  the  immensity  of  his  nature, 
or  even  in  what  he  has  created,  many  things  that  exceed 
our  comprehension. 

* In  the  French,  <(  since  extension  constitutes  the  nature  of  body,® 

f In  the  French,  « because  our  perceptions  arise  from  impressions 
made  upon  us  from  another  source, w i.  e.,  than  ourselves. 


PART  I 


3” 


XXVI.  That  it  is  not  needful  to  enter  into  disputes* 
regarding  the  infinite,  but  merely  to  hold  all  that  in  which 
we  can  find  no  limits  as  indefinite,  such  as  the  extension 
of  the  world,  the  divisibility  of  the  parts  of  matter,  the 
number  of  the  stars,  etc. 

We  will  thus  never  embarrass  ourselves  by  disputes 
about  the  infinite,  seeing  it  would  be  absurd  for  us  who 
are  finite  to  undertake  to  determine  anything  regarding 
it,  and  thus  as  it  were  to  limit  it  by  endeavoring  to  com- 
prehend it.  We  will  accordingly  give  ourselves  no  con- 
cern to  reply  to  those  who  demand  whether  the  half  of 
an  infinite  line  is  also  infinite,  and  whether  an  infinite 
number  is  even  or  odd,  and  the  like,  because  it  is  only 
such  as  imagine  their  minds  to  be  infinite  who  seem 
bound  to  entertain  questions  of  this  sort.  And,  for  our 
part,  looking  to  all  those  things  in  which  in  certain  senses, 
we  discover  no  limits,  we  will  not,  therefore,  affirm  that 
they  are  infinite,  but  will  regard  them  simply  as  indefi- 
nite. Thus,  because  we  cannot  imagine  extension  so 
great  that  we  cannot  still  conceive  greater,  we  will  say 
that  the  magnitude  of  possible  things  is  indefinite,  and 
because  a body  cannot  be  divided  into  parts  so  small  that 
each  of  these  may  not  be  conceived  as  again  divided  into 
others  still  smaller,  let  us  regard  quantity  as  divisible 
into  parts  whose  number  is  indefinite;  and  as  we  cannot 
imagine  so  many  stars  that  it  would  seem  impossible  for 
God  to  create  more,  let  us  suppose  that  their  number  is 
indefinite,  and  so  in  other  instances. 

XXVII.  What  difference  there  is  between  the  indefinite 
and  the  infinite. 

And  we  will  call  those  things  indefinite  rather  than 
infinite,  with  the  view  of  reserving  to  God  alone  the 
appellation  of  infinite ; in  the  first  place,  because  not  only 
do  we  discover  in  him  alone  no  limits  on  any  side,  but 
also  because  we  positively  conceive  that  he  admits  of 
none;  and  in  the  second  place,  because  we  do  not  in  the 
same  way  positively  conceive  that  other  things  are  in 
every  part  unlimited,  but  merely  negatively  admit  that 
their  limits,  if  they  have  any,  cannot  be  discovered  by  us. 

XXVIII.  That  we  must  examine,  not  the  final,  but  the 
Bfficent,  causes  of  created  things. 

Likewise,  finally,  we  will  not  seek  reasons  of  natural 

* (<  To  essay  to  comprehend  the  infinite. » — French. 


312 


THE  PRINCIPLES  OF  PHILOSOPHY 


things  from  the  end  which  God  or  nature  proposed  to 
himself  in  their  creation  (z.  e.,  final  causes),*  for  we 
ought  not  to  presume  so  far  as  to  think  that  we  are 
sharers  in  the  counsels  of  Deity,  but,  considering  him  as 
the  efficient  cause  of  all  things,  let  us  endeavor  to  discover 
by  the  natural  light  f which  he  has  planted  in  us,  applied 
to  those  of  his  attributes  of  which  he  has  been  willing 
we  should  have  some  knowledge,  what  must  be  con- 
cluded regarding  those  effects  we  perceive  by  our  senses; 
bearing  in  mind,  however,  what  has  been  already  said, 
that  we  must  only  confide  in  this  natural  light  so  long 
as  nothing  contrary  to  its  dictates  is  revealed  by  God 
himself.  J 

XXIX.  That  God  is  not  the  cause  of  our  errors. 

The  first  attribute  of  God  which  here  falls  to  be  con- 
sidered, is  that  he  is  absolutely  veracious  and  the  source 
of  all  light,  so  that  it  is  plainly  repugnant  for  him  to 
deceive  us,  or  to  be  properly  and  positively  the  cause  of  the 
errors  to  which  we  are  consciously  subject;  for  although 
the  address  to  deceive  seems  to  be  some  mark  of  subtlety 
of  mind  among  men,  yet  without  doubt  the  will  to  de- 
ceive only  proceeds  from  malice  or  from  fear  and  weak- 
ness, and  consequently  cannot  be  attributed  to  God. 

XXX.  That  consequently  all  which  we  clearly  perceive 
is  true,  and  that  we  are  thus  delivered  from  the  doubts 
above  proposed. 

Whence  it  follows,  that  the  light  of  nature,  or  faculty 
of  knowledge  given  us  by  God,  can  never  compass  any 
object  which  is  not  true,  in  as  far  as  it  attains  to  a 
knowledge  of  it,  that  is,  in  as  far  as  the  object  is  clearly 
and  distinctly  apprehended.  For  God  would  have  merited 
the  appellation  of  a deceiver  if  he  had  given  us  this  fac- 
ulty perverted,  and  such  as  might  lead  us  to  take  falsity 
for  truth  [when  we  used  it  aright].  Thus  the  highest 
doubt  is  removed,  which  arose  from  our  ignorance  on  the 
point  as  to  whether  perhaps  our  nature  was  such  that  we 
might  be  deceived  even  in  those  things  that  appear  to  us 

* <(  We  will  not  stop  to  consider  the  ends  which  God  proposed  to  him- 
self in  the  creation  of  the  world,  and  we  will  entirely  reject  from  our 
philosophy  the  search  of  final  causes.”  — French. 

f <(  Faculty  of  reasoning.” — French. 

f The  last  clause,  beginning  « bearing  in  mind,”  is  omitted  in  the 
French. 


PART  I 


3i3 


the  most  evident.  The  same  principle  ought  also  to  be  of 
avail  against  all  the  other  grounds  of  doubting  that  have 
been  already  enumerated.  For  mathematical  truths  ought 
now  to  be  above  suspicion,  since  these  are  of  the  clearest. 
And  if  we  perceive  anything  by  our  senses,  whether  while 
awake  or  asleep,  we  will  easily  discover  the  truth,  pro- 
vided we  separate  what  there  is  of  clear  and  distinct  in 
the  knowledge  from  what  is  obscure  and  confused.  There 
is  no  need  that  I should  here  say  more  on  this  subject, 
since  it  has  already  received  ample  treatment  in  the 
metaphysical  Meditations;  and  what  follows  will  serve  to 
explain  it  still  more  accurately. 

XXXI.  That  our  errors  are,  in  respect  of  God,  merely 
negations,  but,  in  respect  of  ourselves,  privations. 

But  as  it  happens  that  we  frequently  fall  into  error, 
although  God  is  no  deceiver,  if  we  desire  to  inquire  into 
the  origin  and  cause  of  our  errors,  with  a view  to  guard 
against  them,  it  is  necessary  to  observe  that  they  depend 
less  on  our  understanding  than  on  our  will,  and  that  they 
have  no  need  of  the  actual  concourse  of  God,  in  order  to 
their  production;  so  that,  when  considered  in  reference 
to  God,  they  are  merely  negations,  but  in  reference  to 
ourselves,  privations. 

XXXII.  That  there  are  only  two  modes  of  thinking  in 
us,  viz,  the  perception  of  the  understanding  and  the 
action  of  the  will. 

For  all  the  modes  of  thinking  of  which  we  are  conscious 
may  be  referred  to  two  general  classes,  the  one  of  which 
is  the  perception  or  operation  of  the  understanding,  and 
the  other  the  volition  or  operation  of  the  will.  Thus,  to 
perceive  by  the  senses  ( sentire ),  to  imagine  and  to  con- 
ceive things  purely  intelligible,  are  only  different  modes 
of  perceiving  ( percipiendi ) ; but  to  desire,  to  be  averse 
from,  to  affirm,  to  deny,  to  doubt,  are  different  modes 
of  willing. 

XXXIII.  That  we  never  err  unless  when  we  judge  of 
something  which  we  do  not  sufficiently  apprehend. 

When  we  apprehend  anything  we  are  in  no  danger  of 
error,  if  we  refrain  from  judging  of  it  in  any  way;  and 
even  when  we  have  formed  a judgment  regarding  it,  we 
would  never  fall  into  error,  provided  we  gave  our  assent 
only  to  what  we  clearly  and  distinctly  perceived;  but  the 
reason  why  we  are  usually  deceived,  is  that  we  judge 


314 


THE  PRINCIPLES  OF  PHILOSOPHY 


without  possessing  an  exact  knowledge  of  that  of  which 
we  judge. 

XXXIV.  That  the  will  as  well  as  the  understanding  is 
required  for  judging. 

I admit  that  the  understanding  is  necessary  for  judging, 
there  being  no  room  to  suppose  that  we  can  judge  of  that 
which  we  in  no  way  apprehend ; but  the  will  also  is 
required  in  order  to  our  assenting  to  what  we  have  in 
any  degree  perceived.  It  is  not  necessary,  however,  at 
least  to  form  any  judgment  whatever,  that  we  have  an 
entire  and  perfect  apprehension  of  a thing;  for  we  may 
assent  to  many  things  of  which  we  have  only  a very 
obscure  and  confused  knowledge. 

XXXV.  That  the  will  is  of  greater  extension  than  the 
understanding,  and  is  thus  the  source  of  our  errors. 

Further,  the  perception  of  the  intellect  extends  only  to 
the  few  things  that  are  presented  to  it,  and  is  always 
very  limited : the  will,  on  the  other  hand,  may,  in  a certain 
sense,  be  said  to  be  infinite,  because  we  observe  nothing 
that  can  be  the  object  of  the  will  of  any  other,  even  of 
the  unlimited  will  of  God,  to  which  ours  cannot  also  ex- 
tend, so  that  we  easily  carry  it  beyond  the  objects  we 
clearly  perceive;  and  when  we  do  this,  it  is  not  wonderful 
that  we  happen  to  be  deceived. 

XXXVI.  That  our  errors  cannot  be  imputed  to  God. 

But  although  God  has  not  given  us  an  omniscient  un- 
derstanding, he  is  not  on  this  account  to  be  considered  in 
any  wise  the  author  of  our  errors,  for  it  is  of  the  nature 
of  created  intellect  to  be  finite,  and  of  finite  intellect  not 
to  embrace  all  things. 

XXXVII.  That  the  chief  perfection  of  man  is  his  being 
able  to  act  freely  or  by  will,  and  that  it  is  this  which 
renders  him  worthy  of  praise  or  blame. 

That  the  will  should  be  the  more  extensive  is  in  har- 
mony with  its  nature ; and  it  is  a high  perfection  in  man 
to  be  able  to  act  by  means  of  it,  that  is,  freely;  and 
thus  in  a peculiar  way  to  be  the  master  of  his  own 
actions,  and  merit  praise  or  blame.  For  self-acting  ma- 
chines are  not  commended  because  they  perform  with 
exactness  all  the  movements  for  which  they  were  adapted, 
seeing  their  motions  are  carried  on  necessarily;  but  the 
maker  of  them  is  praised  on  account  of  the  exactness 
with  which  they  were  framed,  because  he  did  not  act 


PART  I 


3i5 


of  necessity,  but  freely;  and,  on  the  same  principle, 
we  must  attribute  to  ourselves  something  more  on  this 
account,  that  when  we  embrace  truth,  we  do  so  not  of 
necessity,  but  freely. 

XXXVIII.  That  error  is  a defect  in  our  mode  of  act- 
ing, not  in  our  nature ; and  that  the  faults  of  their  subjects 
may  be  frequently  attributed  to  other  masters,  but  never 
to  God. 

It  is  true,  that  as  often  as  we  err,  there  is  some  defect 
in  our  mode  of  action  or  in  the  use  of  our  liberty,  but 
not  in  our  nature,  because  this  is  always  the  same, 
whether  our  judgments  be  true  or  false.  And  although 
God  could  have  given  to  us  such  perspicacity  of  intellect 
that  we  should  never  have  erred,  we  have,  notwith- 
standing, no  right  to  demand  this  of  him;  for,  although 
with  us  he  who  was  able  to  prevent  evil  and  did  not  is 
held  guilty  of  it,  God  is  not  in  the  same  way  to  be 
reckoned  responsible  for  our  errors  because  he  had  the 
power  to  prevent  them,  inasmuch  as  the  dominion  which 
some  men  possess  over  others  has  been  instituted  for 
the  purpose  of  enabling  them  to  hinder  those  under  them 
from  doing  evil,  whereas  the  dominion  which  God  ex- 
ercises over  the  universe  is  perfectly  absolute  and  free. 
For  this  reason  we  ought  to  thank  him  for  the  goods 
he  has  given  us,  and  not  complain  that  he  has  not 
blessed  us  with  all  which  we  know  it  was  in  his  power 
to  impart. 

XXXIX.  That  the  liberty  of  our  will  is  self-evident. 

Finally,  it  is  so  manifest  that  we  possess  a free  will, 
capable  of  giving  or  withholding  its  assent,  that  this 
truth  must  be  reckoned  among  the  first  and  most  com- 
mon notions  which  are  born  with  us.  This,  indeed,  has 
already  very  clearly  appeared,  for  when  essaying  to  doubt 
of  all  things,  we  went  so  far  as  to  suppose  that  even  he 
who  created  us  employed  his  limitless  power  in  deceiving 
us  in  every  way,  we  were  conscious  nevertheless  of  being 
free  to  abstain  from  believing  what  was  not  in  every 
respect  certain  and  undoubted.  But  that  of  which  we 
are  unable  to  doubt  at  such  a time  is  as  self-evident  and 
clear  as  any  thing  we  can  ever  know. 

XL.  That  it  is  likewise  certain  that  God  has  fore- 
ordained all  things. 

But  because  what  we  have  already  discovered  of  God, 


3 1 6 THE  PRINCIPLES  OF  PHILOSOPHY 

gives  us  the  assurance  that  his  power  is  so  immense  that 
we  would  sin  in  thinking  ourselves  capable  of  ever  doing 
anything  which  he  had  not  ordained  beforehand,  we 
should  soon  be  embarrassed  in  great  difficulties  if  we  un- 
dertook to  harmonize  the  pre-ordination  of  God  with  the 
freedom  of  our  will,  and  endeavored  to  comprehend  both 
truths  at  once. 

XLI.  How  the  freedom  of  our  will  may  be  reconciled 
with  the  Divine  pre-ordination. 

But,  in  place  of  this,  we  will  be  free  from  these  em- 
barrassments if  we  recollect  that  our  mind  is  limited, 
while  the  power  of  God,  by  which  he  not  only  knew 
from  all  eternity  what  is  or  can  be,  but  also  willed  and 
pre-ordained  it,  is  infinite.  It  thus  happens  that  we  pos- 
sess sufficient  intelligence  to  know  clearly  and  distinctly 
that  this  power  is  in  God,  but  not  enough  to  comprehend 
how  he  leaves  the  free  actions  of  men  indeterminate; 
and,  on  the  other  hand,  we  have  such  consciousness  of 
the  liberty  and  indifference  which  exists  in  ourselves, 
that  there  is  nothing  we  more  clearly  or  perfectly  com- 
prehend: [so  that  the  omnipotence  of  God  ought  not  to 
keep  us  from  believing  it].  For  it  would  be  absurd  to 
doubt  of  that  of  which  we  are  fully  conscious,  and  which 
we  experience  as  existing  in  ourselves,  because  we  do 
not  comprehend  another  matter  which,  from  its  very 
nature,  we  know  to  be  incomprehensible. 

XLII.  How,  although  we  never  will  to  err,  it  is  never- 
theless by  our  will  that  we  do  err. 

But  now  since  we  know  that  all  our  errors  depend  upon 
our  will,  and  as  no  one  wishes  to  deceive  himself,  it  may 
seem  wonderful  that  there  is  any  error  in  our  judgments 
at  all.  It  is  necessary  to  remark,  however,  that  there 
is  a great  difference  between  willing  to  be  deceived,  and 
willing  to  yield  assent  to  opinions  in  which  it  happens 
that  error  is  found.  For  though  there  is  no  one  who 
expressly  wishes  to  fall  into  error,  we  will  yet  hardly 
find  anyone  who  is  not  ready  to  assent  to  things  in 
which,  unknown  to  himself,  error  lurks;  and  it  even  fre- 
quently happens  that  it  is  the  desire  itself  of  following 
after  truth  that  leads  those  not  fully  aware  of  the  order 
in  which  it  ought  to  be  sought  for,  to  pass  judgment  on 
matters  of  which  they  have  no  adequate  knowledge,  and 
thus  to  fall  into  error. 


PART  I 


317 


XLIII.  That  we  shall  never  err  if  we  give  our  assent 
only  to  what  we  clearly  and  distinctly  perceive. 

But  it  is  certain  we  will  never  admit  falsity  for  truth, 
so  long  as  we  judge  only  of  that  which  we  clearly  and  dis- 
tinctly perceive ; because,  as  God  is  no  deceiver,  the  faculty 
of  knowledge  which  he  has  given  us  cannot  be  fallacious, 
nor,  for  the  same  reason,  the  faculty  of  will,  when  we  do 
not  extend  it  beyond  the  objects  we  clearly  know.  And 
even  although  this  truth  could  not  be  established  by 
reasoning,  the  minds  of  all  have  been  so  impressed  by 
nature  as  spontaneously  to  assent  to  whatever  is  clearly 
perceived,  and  to  experience  an  impossibility  to  doubt  of 
its  truth. 

XL IV.  That  we  uniformly  judge  improperly  when  we 
assent  to  what  we  do  not  clearly  perceive,  although  our 
judgment  may  chance  to  be  true;  and  that  it  is  frequently 
our  memory  which  deceives  us  by  leading  us  to  believe 
that  certain  things  were  formerly  sufficiently  understood 
by  us. 

It  is  likewise  certain  that,  when  we  approve  of  any 
reason  which  we  do  not  apprehend,  we  are  either  deceived, 
or,  if  we  stumble  on  the  truth,  it  is  only  by  chance,  and 
thus  we  can  never  possess  the  assurance  that  we  are  not 
in  error.  I confess  it  seldom  happens  that  we  judge  of  a 
thing  when  we  have  observed  we  do  not  apprehend  it, 
because  it  is  a dictate  of  the  natural  light  never  to  judge 
of  what  we  do  not  know.  But  we  most  frequently  err  in 
this,  that  we  presume  upon  a past  knowledge  of  much  to 
which  we  give  our  assent,  as  to  something  treasured  up  in 
the  memory,  and  perfectly  known  to  us ; whereas,  in  truth, 
we  have  no  such  knowledge. 

XLV.  What  constitutes  clear  and  distinct  percep- 
tion. 

There  are  indeed  a great  many  persons  who,  through 
their  whole  lifetime,  never  perceive  anything  in  a way 
necessary  for  judging  of  it  properly;  for  the  knowledge 
upon  which  we  can  establish  a certain  and  indubitable 
judgment  must  be  not  only  clear,  but  also  distinct.  I call 
that  clear  which  is  present  and  manifest  to  the  mind  giv- 
ing attention  to  it,  just  as  we  are  said  clearly  to  see  ob- 
jects when,  being  present  to  the  eye  looking  on,  they 
stimulate  it  with  sufficient  force,  and  it  is  disposed  to 
regard  them;  but  the  distinct  is  that  which  is  so  precise 


318  THE  PRINCIPLES  OF  PHILOSOPHY 

and  different  from  all  other  objects  as  to  comprehend  in 
itself  only  what  is  clear.* 

XLVI.  It  is  shown,  from  the  example  of  pain,  that  a 
perception  may  be  clear  without  being  distinct,  but  that  it 
cannot  be  distinct  unless  it  is  clear. 

For  example,  when  any  one  feels  intense  pain,  the 
knowledge  which  he  has  of  this  pain  is  very  clear,  but  it 
is  not  always  distinct;  for  men  usually  confound  it  with 
the  obscure  judgment  they  form  regarding  its  nature, 
and  think  that  there  is  in  the  suffering  part  something 
similar  to  the  sensation  of  pain  of  which  they  are  alone 
conscious.  And  thus  perception  may  be  clear  without 
being  distinct,  but  it  can  never  be  distinct  without  like- 
wise being  clear. 

XLVII.  That,  to  correct  the  prejudices  of  our  early 
years,  we  must  consider  what  is  clear  in  each  of  our 
simple  f notions. 

And,  indeed,  in  our  early  years,  the  mind  was  so  im- 
mersed in  the  body,  that,  although  it  perceived  many 
things  with  sufficient  clearness,  it  yet  knew  nothing  dis- 
tinctly; and  since  even  at  that  time  we  exercised  our 
judgment  in  many  matters,  numerous  prejudices  were 
thus  contracted,  which,  by  the  majority,  are  never  after- 
ward laid  aside.  But  that  we  may  now  be  in  a position 
to  get  rid  of  these,  I will  here  briefly  enumerate  all  the 
simple  notions  of  which  our  thoughts  are  composed,  and 
distinguish  in  each  what  is  clear  from  what  is  obscure, 
or  fitted  to  lead  into  error. 

XLVIII.  That  all  the  objects  of  our  knowledge  are  to 
be  regarded  either  ( i ) as  things  or  the  affections  of 
things ; or  ( 2 ) as  eternal  truths ; with  the  enumeration 
of  things. 

Whatever  objects  fall  under  our  knowledge  we  con- 
sider either  as  things  or  the  affections  of  things, J or  as 
eternal  truths  possessing  no  existence  beyond  our  thought. 
Of  the  first  class  the  most  general  are  substance,  dura- 
tion, order,  number,  and  perhaps  also  some  others,  which 

*<(What  appears  manifestly  to  him  who  considers  it  as  he  ought.® 
— French. 

t (<  First.® — French. 

f Things  and  the  affections  of  things  are  ( in  the  French ) equiva- 
lent to  (<  what  has  some  ( i.  e. , a real  ) existence, » as  opposed  to  the 
class  of  « eternal  truths,”  which  have  merely  an  ideal  existence. 


PART  I 


3i9 


notions  apply  to  all  the  kinds  of  things.  I do  not,  how- 
ever, recognize  more  than  two  highest  kinds  ( summa 
genera')  of  things;  the  first  of  intellectual  things,  or  such 
as  have  the  power  of  thinking,  including  mind  or  think- 
ing substance  and  its  properties;  the  second,  of  material 
things,  embracing  extended  substance,  or  body  and  its 
properties.  Perception,  volition,  and  all  modes  as  well 
of  knowing  as  of  willing,  are  related  to  thinking  sub- 
stance ; on  the  other  hand,  to  extended  substance  we 
refer  magnitude,  or  extension  in  length,  breadth,  and 
depth,  figure,  motion,  situation,  divisibility  of  parts  them- 
selves, and  the  like.  There  are,  however,  besides  these, 
certain  things  of  which  we  have  an  internal  experience 
that  ought  not  to  be  referred  either  to  the  mind  of  itself, 
or  to  the  body  alone,  but  to  the  close  and  intimate 
union  between  them,  as  will  hereafter  be  shown  in  its 
place.  Of  this  class  are  the  appetites  of  hunger  and 
thirst,  etc.,  and  also  the  emotions  or  passions  of  the 
mind  which  are  not  exclusively  mental  affections,  as  the 
emotions  of  anger,  joy,  sadness,  love,  etc. ; and  finally, 
all  the  sensations,  as  of  pain,  titillation,  light,  and  colors, 
sounds,  smells,  tastes,  heat,  hardness,  and  the  other  tac- 
tile qualities. 

XLIX.  That  the  eternal  truths  cannot  be  thus  enu- 
merated, but  that  this  is  not  necessary. 

What  I have  already  enumerated  we  are  to  regard  as 
things,  or  the  qualities  or  modes  of  things.  We  now 
come  to  speak  of  eternal  truths.  When  we  apprehend 
that  it  is  impossible  a thing  can  arise  from  nothing,  this 
proposition  ex  nihilo  nihil  fit , is  not  considered  as  some- 
thing existing,  or  as  the  mode  of  a thing,  but  as  an 
eternal  truth  having  its  seat  in  our  mind,  and  is  called 
a common  notion  or  axiom.  Of  this  class  are  the  follow- 
ing: It  is  impossible  the  same  thing  can  at  once  be  and 

not  be;  what  is  done  cannot  be  undone;  he  who  thinks 
must  exist  while  he  thinks;  and  innumerable  others,  the 
whole  of  which  it  is  indeed  difficult  to  enumerate,  but 
this  is  not  necessary,  since,  if  blinded  by  no  prejudices, 
we  cannot  fail  to  know  them  when  the  occasion  of  think- 
ing them  occurs. 

L.  That  these  truths  are  clearly  perceived,  but  not 
equally  by  all  men,  on  account  of  prejudices. 

And,  indeed,  with  regard  to  these  common  notions,  it 


320 


THE  PRINCIPLES  OF  PHILOSOPHY 


is  not  to  be  doubted  that  they  can  be  clearly  and  dis- 
tinctly known,  for  otherwise  they  would  not  merit  this 
appellation : as,  in  truth,  some  of  them  are  not,  with  respect 
to  all  men,  equally  deserving  of  the  name,  because  they 
are  not  equally  admitted  by  all : not,  however,  from  this 
reason,  as  I think,  that  the  faculty  of  knowledge  of  one 
man  extends  farther  than  that  of  another,  but  rather  be- 
cause these  common  notions  are  opposed  to  the  prejudices 
of  some,  who,  on  this  account,  are  not  able  readily  to  em- 
brace them,  even  although  others,  who  are  free  from  those 
prejudices,  apprehend  them  with  the  greatest  clearness. 

LI.  What  substance  is,  and  that  the  term  is  not  appli- 
cable to  God  and  the  creatures  in  the  same  sense. 

But  with  regard  to  what  we  consider  as  things  or  the 
modes  of  things,  it  is  worth  while  to  examine  each  of 
them  by  itself.  By  substance  we  can  conceive  nothing 
else  than  a thing  which  exists  in  such  a way  as  to  stand 
in  need  of  nothing  beyond  itself  in  order  to  its  existence. 
And  in  truth,  there  can  be  conceived  but  one  substance 
which  is  absolutely  independent,  and  that  is  God.  We 
perceive  that  all  other  things  can  exist  only  by  help  of 
the  concourse  of  God.  And,  accordingly,  the  term  sub- 
stance does  not  apply  to  God  and  the  creatures  univocally, 
to  adopt  a term  familiar  in  the  schools ; that  is,  no  signifi- 
cation of  this  word  can  be  distinctly  understood  which  is 
common  to  God  and  them. 

LI  I.  That  the  term  is  applicable  univocally  to  the  mind 
and  the  body,  and  how  substance  itself  is  known. 

Created  substances,  however,  whether  corporeal  or 
thinking,  may  be  conceived  under  this  common  concept; 
for  these  are  things  which,  in  order  to  their  existence, 
stand  in  need  of  nothing  but  the  concourse  of  God.  But 
yet  substance  cannot  be  first  discovered  merely  from  its 
being  a thing  which  exists  independently,  for  existence 
by  itself  is  not  observed  by  us.  We  easily,  however,  dis- 
cover substance  itself  from  any  attribute  of  it,  by  this 
common  notion,  that  of  nothing  there  are  no  attributes, 
properties,  or  qualities;  for,  from  perceiving  that  some 
attribute  is  present,  we  infer  that  some  existing  thing  01 
substance  to  which  it  may  be  attributed  is  also  of  neces' 
sity  present. 

LIII.  That  of  every  substance  there  is  one  principal 
ittribute,  as  thinking  of  the  mind,  extension  of  the  body. 


PART  I 


321 


But,  although  any  attribute  is  sufficient  to  lead  us  to 
the  knowledge  of  substance,  there  is,  however,  one  prin- 
cipal property  of  every  substance,  which  constitutes  its 
nature  or  essence,  and  upon  which  all  the  others  depend. 
Thus,  extension  in  length,  breadth,  and  depth,  constitutes 
the  nature  of  corporeal  substance ; and  thought  the  na- 
ture of  thinking  substance.  For  every  other  thing 
that  can  be  attributed  to  body,  presupposes  extension, 
and  is  only  some  mode  of  an  extended  thing;  as  all  the 
properties  we  discover  in  the  mind  are  only  diverse 
modes  of  thinking.  Thus,  for  example,  we  cannot  con- 
ceive figure  unless  in  something  extended,  nor  motion 
unless  in  extended  space,  nor  imagination,  sensation,  or 
will,  unless  in  a thinking  thing.  But,  on  the  other  hand, 
we  can  conceive  extension  without  figure  or  motion,  and 
thought  without  imagination  or  sensation,  and  so  of  the 
others ; as  is  clear  to  any  one  who  attends  to  these  matters. 

LIV.  How  we  may  have  clear  and  distinct  notions  of 
the  substance  which  thinks,  of  that  which  is  corporeal, 
^nd  of  God. 

And  thus  we  may  easily  have  two  clear  and  distinct 
(lotions  or  ideas,  the  one  of  created  substance,  which 
thinks,  the  other  of  corporeal  substance,  provided  we 
carefully  distinguish  all  the  attributes  of  thought  from 
those  of  extension.  We  may  also  have  a clear  and  dis- 
tinct idea  of  an  uncreated  and  independent  thinking  sub- 
stance, that  is  of  God,  provided  we  do  not  suppose  that 
this  idea  adequately  represents  to  us  all  that  is  in  God, 
and  do  not  mix  up  with  it  anything  fictitious,  but  attend 
simply  to  the  characters  that  are  comprised  in  the  notion 
we  have  of  him,  and  which  we  clearly  know  to  belong 
to  the  nature  of  an  absolutely  perfect  Being.  For  no  one 
can  deny  that  there  is  in  us  such  an  idea  of  God,  with- 
out groundlessly  supposing  that  there  is  no  knowledge  of 
God  at  all  in  the  human  mind. 

LV.  How  duration,  order,  and  number  may  be  also 
distinctly  conceived. 

We  will  also  have  most  distinct  conceptions  of  duration, 
order,  and  number,  if,  in  place  of  mixing  up  with  our 
notions  of  them  that  which  properly  belongs  to  the  con- 
cept of  substance,  we  merely  think  that  the  duration  of 
a thing  is  a mode  under  which  we  conceive  this  thing, 
in  so  far  as  it  continues  to  exist;  and,  in  like  manner, 
31 


322 


THE  PRINCIPLES  OF  PHILOSOPHY 


that  order  and  number  are  not  in  reality  different  from 
things  disposed  in  order  and  numbered,  but  only  modes 
under  which  we  diversely  consider  these  things. 

LVI.  What  are  modes,  qualities,  attributes. 

And,  indeed,  we  here  understand  by  modes  the  same 
with  what  we  elsewhere  designate  attributes  or  qualities. 
But  when  we  consider  substance  as  affected  or  varied  by 
them,  we  use  the  term  modes;  when  from  this  variation 
it  may  be  denominated  of  such  a kind,  we  adopt  the  term 
qualities  [to  designate  the  different  modes  which  cause  it 
to  be  so  named] ; and  finally,  when  we  simply  regard 
these  modes  as  in  the  substance,  we  call  them  attributes. 
Accordingly,  since  God  must  be  conceived  as  superior  to 
change,  it  is  not  proper  to  say  that  there  are  modes  or 
qualities  in  him,  but  simply  attributes;  and  even  in  cre- 
ated things  that  which  is  found  in  them  always  in  the 
same  mode,  as  existence  and  duration  in  the  thing  which 
exists  and  endures,  ought  to  be  called  attribute,  and  not 
mode  or  quality. 

LVII.  That  some  attributes  exist  in  the  things  to 
which  they  are  attributed,  and  others  only  in  our  thought ; 
and  what  duration  and  time  are. 

Of  these  attributes  or  modes  there  are  some  which  ex- 
ist in  the  things  themselves,  and  others  that  have  only 
an  existence  in  our  thought;  thus,  for  example,  time, 
which  we  distinguish  from  duration  taken  in  its  gener- 
ality, and  call  the  measure  of  motion,  is  only  a certain 
mode  under  which  we  think  duration  itself,  for  we  do 
not  indeed  conceive  the  duration  of  things  that  are  moved 
to  be  different  from  the  duration  of  things  that  are  not 
moved:  as  is  evident  from  this,  that  if  two  bodies  are  in 
motion  for  an  hour,  the  one  moving  quickly  and  the 
other  slowly,  we  do  not  reckon  more  time  in  the  one 
than  in  the  other,  although  there  may  be  much  more 
motion  in  the  one  of  the  bodies  than  in  the  other.  But 
that  we  may  comprehend  the  duration  of  all  things  under 
a common  measure,  we  compare  their  duration  with  that 
of  the  greatest  and  most  regular  motions  that  give  rise 
to  years  and  days,  and  which  we  call  time;  hence  what 
is  so  designated  is  nothing  superadded  to  duration,  taken 
in  its  generality,  but  a mode  of  thinking. 

LVIII.  That  number  and  all  universals  are  only  modes 
of  thought. 


PART  I 


323 


In  the  same  way  number,  when  it  is  not  considered 
as  in  created  things,  but  merely  in  the  abstract  or  in 
general,  is  only  a mode  of  thinking,  and  the  same  is  true 
of  all  those  general  ideas  we  call  universals. 

LIX.  How  universals  are  formed;  and  what  are  the 
five  common,  viz,  genus,  species,  difference,  property, 
and  accident. 

Universals  arise  merely  from  our  making  use  of 
one  and  the  same  idea  in  thinking  of  all  individual 
objects  between  which  there  subsists  a certain  likeness; 
and  when  we  comprehend  all  the  objects  represented 
by  this  idea  under  one  name,  this  term  likewise  becomes 
universal.  For  example,  when  we  see  two  stones,  and  do 
not  regard  their  nature  further  than  to  remark  that  there 
are  two  of  them,  we  form  the  idea  of  a certain  number, 
which  we  call  the  binary;  and  when  we  afterward  see 
two  birds  or  two  trees,  and  merely  take  notice  of  them 
so  far  as  to  observe  that  there  are  two  of  them,  we 
again  take  up  the  same  idea  as  before,  which  is,  accord- 
ingly, universal ; and  we  likewise  gave  to  this  number  the 
same  universal  appellation  of  binary.  In  the  same  way, 
when  we  consider  a figure  of  three  sides,  we  form  a cer- 
tain idea,  which  we  call  the  idea  of  a triangle,  and 
we  afterward  make  use  of  it  as  the  universal  to 
represent  to  our  mind  all  other  figures  of  three  sides. 
But  when  we  remark  more  particularly  that  of  figures  of 
three  sides,  some  have  a right  angle  and  others  not,  we 
form  the  universal  idea  of  a right-angled  triangle,  which 
being  related  to  the  preceding  as  more  general,  may  be 
called  species;  and  the  right  angle  the  universal  differ- 
ence by  which  right-angled  triangles  are  distinguished 
from  all  others;  and  further,  because  the  square  of  the 
side  which  sustains  the  right  angle  is  equal  to  the  squares 
of  the  other  two  sides,  and  because  this  property  belongs 
only  to  this  species  of  triangles,  we  may  call  it  the  uni- 
versal property  of  the  species.  Finally,  if  we  suppose 
that  of  these  triangles  some  are  moved  and  others  not, 
this  will  be  their  universal  accident ; and,  accordingly,  we 
commonly  reckon  five  universals,  viz,  genus,  species, 
difference,  property,  accident. 

LX.  Of  distinctions;  and  first  of  the  real. 

But  number  in  things  themselves  arises  from  the  dis- 
tinction there  is  between  them:  and  distinction  is  three- 


324 


THE  PRINCIPLES  OF  PHILOSOPHY 


fold,  viz,  real,  modal,  and  of  reason.  The  real  properly 
subsists  between  two  or  more  substances;  and  it  is  suffi- 
cient to  assure  us  that  two  substances  are  really  mutually 
distinct,  if  only  we  are  able  clearly  and  distinctly  to  con- 
ceive the  one  of  them  without  the  other.  For  the  knowl- 
edge we  have  of  God  renders  it  certain  that  he  can  effect 
all  that  of  which  we  have  a distinct  idea;  wherefore,  since 
we  have  now,  for  example,  the  idea  of  an  extended  and 
corporeal  substance,  though  we  as  yet  do  not  know  with 
certainty  whether  any  such  thing  is  really  existent,  never- 
theless, merely  because  we  have  the  idea  of  it,  we  may  be 
assured  that  such  may  exist;  and,  if  it  really  exists,  that 
every  part  which  we  can  determine  by  thought  must  be 
really  distinct  from  the  other  parts  of  the  same  substance. 
In  the  same  way,  since  everyone  is  conscious  that  he 
thinks,  and  that  he  in  thought  can  exclude  from  himself 
every  other  substance,  whether  thinking  or  extended,  it  is 
certain  that  each  of  us  thus  considered  is  really  distinct 
from  every  other  thinking  and  corporeal  substance.  And 
although  we  suppose  that  God  united  a body  to  a soul  so 
closely  that  it  was  impossible  to  form  a more  intimate 
union,  and  thus  made  a composite  whole,  the  two  sub- 
stances would  remain  really  distinct,  notwithstanding  this 
union : for  with  whatever  tie  God  connected  them,  he  was 
not  able  to  rid  himself  of  the  power  he  possessed  of  sepa- 
rating them,  or  of  conserving  the  one  apart  from  the 
other,  and  the  things  which  God  can  separate  or  con- 
serve separately  are  really  distinct. 

LXI.  Of  the  modal  distinction. 

There  are  two  kinds  of  modal  distinctions,  viz,  that 
between  the  mode  properly  so-called  and  the  substance 
of  which  it  is  a mode,  and  that  between  two  modes  of 
the  same  substance.  Of  the  former  we  have  an  example 
in  this,  that  we  can  clearly  apprehend  substance  apart 
from  the  mode  which  we  say  differs  from  it;  while,  on 
the  other  hand,  we  cannot  conceive  this  mode  without 
conceiving  the  substance  itself.  There  is,  for  example, 
a modal  distinction  between  figure  or  motion  and  cor- 
poreal substance  in  which  both  exist;  there  is  a similar 
distinction  between  affirmation  or  recollection  and  the 
mind.  Of  the  latter  kind  we  have  an  illustration  in  our 
ability  to  recognize  the  one  of  two  modes  apart  from  the 
other,  as  figure  apart  from  motion,  and  motion  apart  from 


PART  I 


325 


figure ; though  we  cannot  think  of  either  the  one  or  the 
other  without  thinking  of  the  common  substance  in  which 
they  adhere.  If,  for  example,  a stone  is  moved,  and  is 
withal  square,  we  can,  indeed,  conceive  its  square  figure 
without  its  motion,  and  reciprocally  its  motion  without 
its  square  figure;  but  we  can  conceive  neither  this  mo- 
tion nor  this  figure  apart  from  the  substance  of  the  stone. 
As  for  the  distinction  according  to  which  the  mode  of 
one  substance  is  different  from  another  substance,  or  from 
the  mode  of  another  substance  as  the  motion  of  one  body 
is  different  from  another  body  or  from  the  mind,  or  as 
motion  is  different  from  doubt,  it  seems  to  me  that  it 
should  be  called  real  rather  than  modal,  because  these 
modes  cannot  be  clearly  conceived  apart  from  the  really 
distinct  substances  of  which  they  are  the  modes. 

LXII.  Of  the  distinction  of  reason  (logical  distinction). 

Finally,  the  distinction  of  reason  is  that  between  a 
substance  and  some  one  of  its  attributes,  without  which 
it  is  impossible,  however,  we  can  have  a distinct  con- 
ception of  the  substance  itself;  or  between  two  such 
attributes  of  a common  substance,  the  one  of  which  we 
essay  to  think  without  the  other.  This  distinction  is 
manifest  from  our  inability  to  form  a clear  and  distinct 
idea  of  such  substance,  if  we  separate  from  it  such 
attribute ; or  to  have  a clear  perception  of  the  one  of 
two  such  attributes  if  we  separate  it  from  the  other. 
For  example,  because  any  substance  which  ceases  to 
endure  ceases  also  to  exist,  duration  is  not  distinct  from 
substance  except  in  thought  ( ratione );  and  in  general  all 
the  modes  of  thinking  which  we  consider  as  in  objects 
differ  only  in  thought,  as  well  from  the  objects  of  which 
they  are  thought  as  from  each  other  in  a common 
object.*  It  occurs,  indeed,  to  me  that  I have  elsewhere 
classed  this  kind  of  distinction  with  the  modal  ( viz, 
toward  the  end  of  the  Reply  to  the  First  Objections  to 
the  Meditations  on  the  First  Philosophy ) ; but  there  it 
was  only  necessary  to  treat  of  these  distinctions  generally, 

* « And  generally  all  the  attributes  that  lead  us  to  entertain  different 
thoughts  of  the  same  thing,  such  as,  for  example,  the  extension 
of  body  and  its  property  of  divisibility,  do  not  differ  from  the  body 
which  is  to  us  the  object  of  them,  or  from  each  other,  unless  as  we 
sometimes  confusedly  think  the  one  without  thinking  the  other. »• — 
French. 


326 


THE  PRINCIPLES  OF  PHILOSOPHY 


and  it  was  sufficient  for  my  purpose  at  that  time  simply 
to  distinguish  both  of  them  from  the  real. 

LXIII.  How  thought  and  extension  may  be  distinctly 
known,  as  constituting,  the  one  the  nature  of  mind,  the 
other  that  of  body. 

Thought  and  extension  may  be  regarded  as  constitut- 
ing the  natures  of  intelligent  and  corporeal  substance; 
and  then  they  must  not  be  otherwise  conceived  than  as 
the  thinking  and  extended  substances  themselves,  that 
is,  as  mind  and  body,  which  in  this  way  are  conceived 
with  the  greatest  clearness  and  distinctness.  Moreover, 
we  more  easily  conceive  extended  or  thinking  substance 
than  substance  by  itself,  or  with  the  omission  of  its 
thinking  or  extension.  For  there  is  some  difficulty  in 
abstracting  the  notion  of  substance  from  the  notions  of 
thinking  and  extension,  which,  in  truth,  are  only  diverse 
in  thought  itself  ( i.  e. , logically  different ) ; and  a con- 
cept is  not  more  distinct  because  it  comprehends  fewer 
properties,  but  because  we  accurately  distinguish  what  is 
comprehended  in  it  from  all  other  notions. 

LXIV.  How  these  may  likewise  be  distinctly  conceived 
as  modes  of  substance. 

Thought  and  extension  may  be  also  considered  as  modes 
of  substance;  in  as  far,  namely,  as  the  same  mind  may 
have  many  different  thoughts,  and  the  same  body,  with 
its  size  unchanged,  may  be  extended  in  several  diverse 
ways,  at  one  time  more  in  length  and  less  in  breadth  or 
depth,  and  at  another  time  more  in  breadth  and  less  in 
length ; and  then  they  are  modally  distinguished  from 
substance,  and  can  be  conceived  not  less  clearly  and 
distinctly,  provided  they  be  not  regarded  as  substances 
or  things  separated  from  others,  but  simply  as  modes  of 
things.  For  by  regarding  them  as  in  the  substances 
of  which  they  are  the  modes,  we  distinguish  them 
from  these  substances,  and  take  them  for  what  in  truth 
they  are:  whereas,  on  the  other  hand,  if  we  wish  to 
consider  them  apart  from  the  substances  in  which  they 
are,  we  should  by  this  itself  regard  them  as  self-sub- 
sisting things,  and  thus  confound  the  ideas  of  mode  and 
substance. 

LXV.  How  we  may  likewise  know  their  modes. 

In  the  same  way  we  will  best  apprehend  the  diverse 
modes  of  thought,  as  intellection,  imagination,  recollec- 


PART  I 


32  7 


tion,  volition,  etc.,  and  also  the  diverse  modes  of  exten- 
sion, or  those  that  belong  to  extension-,  as  all  figures, 
the  situation  of  parts  and  their  motions,  provided  we 
consider  them  simply  as  modes  of  the  things  in  which 
they  are;  and  motion  as  far  as  it  is  concerned,  provided 
we  think  merely  of  locomotion,  without  seeking  to  know 
the  force  that  produces  it,  and  which  nevertheless  I will 
essay  to  explain  in  its  own  place. 

LXVI.  How  our  sensations,  affections,  and  appetites 
may  be  clearly  known,  although  we  are  frequently  wrong 
in  our  judgments  regarding  them. 

There  remain  our  sensations,  affections,  and  appetites, 
of  which  we  may  also  have  a clear  knowledge,  if  we  take 
care  to  comprehend  in  the  judgments  we  form  of  them 
only  that  which  is  precisely  contained  in  our  perception 
of  them,  and  of  which  we  are  immediately  conscious. 
There  is,  however,  great  difficulty  in  observing  this,  at 
least  in  respect  of  sensations;  because  we  have  all,  with- 
out exception,  from  our  youth  judged  that  all  the  things 
we  perceived  by  our  senses  had  an  existence  beyond  our 
thought,  and  that  they  were  entirely  similar  to  the  sensa- 
tions, that  is,  perceptions,  we  had  of  them.  Thus  when, 
for  example,  we  saw  a certain  color,  we  thought  we  saw 
something  occupying  a place  out  of  us,  and  which  was 
entirely  similar  to  that  idea  of  color  we  were  then  con- 
scious of;  and  from  the  habit  of  judging  in  this  way,  we 
seemed  to  see  this  so  clearly  and  distinctly  that  we 
esteemed  it  ( i.  e.,  the  externality  of  the  color)  certain 
and  indubitable. 

LXVII.  That  we  are  frequently  deceived  in  our  judg- 
ments regarding  pain  itself. 

The  same  prejudice  has  place  in  all  our  other  sensa- 
tions, even  in  those  of  titillation  and  pain.  For  though 
we  are  not  in  the  habit  of  believing  that  there  exist  out 
of  us  objects  that  resemble  titillation  and  pain,  we  do 
not,  nevertheless,  consider  these  sensations  as  in  the  mind 
alone,  or  in  our  perception,  but  as  in  the  hand,  or  foot, 
or  some  other  part  of  our  body.  There  is  no  reason, 
however,  to  constrain  us  to  believe  that  the  pain,  for 
example,  which  we  feel,  as  it  were  in  the  foot,  is  some- 
thing out  of  the  mind  existing  in  the  foot,  or  that  the 
light  which  we  see,  as  it  were,  in  the  sun  exists  in 
sun  as  it  is  in  us.  Both  these  beliefs  are  preju- 


328 


THE  PRINCIPLES  OF  PHILOSOPHY 


dices  of  our  early  years,  as  will  clearly  appear  in  the 
sequel. 

LXVIII.  How  in  these  things  what  we  clearly  conceive 
is  to  be  distinguished  from  that  in  which  we  may  be  de- 
ceived. 

But  that  we  may  distinguish  what  is  clear  in  our  sen- 
sations from  what  is  obscure,  we  ought  most  carefully  to 
observe  that  we  possess  a clear  and  distinct  knowledge 
of  pain,  color,  and  other  things  of  this  sort,  when  we 
consider  them  simply  as  sensations  or  thoughts;  but  that, 
when  they  are  judged  to  be  certain  things  subsisting 
beyond  our  mind,  we  are  wholly  unable  to  form  any  con- 
ception of  them.  Indeed,  when  any  one  tells  us  that  he 
sees  color  in  a body  or  feels  pain  in  one  of  his  limbs, 
this  is  exactly  the  same  as  if  he  said  that  he  there  saw 
or  felt  something  of  the  nature  of  which  he  was  entirely 
ignorant,  or  that  he  did  not  know  what  he  saw  or  felt. 
For  although,  when  less  attentively  examining  his 
thoughts,  a person  may  easily  persuade  himself  that  he 
has  some  knowledge  of  it,  since  he  supposes  that  there  is 
something  resembling  that  sensation  of  color  or  of  pain 
of  which  he  is  conscious;  yet,  if  he  reflects  on  what  the 
sensation  of  color  or  pain  represents  to  him  as  existing 
in  a colored  body  or  in  a wounded  member,  he  will  find 
that  of  such  he  has  absolutely  no  knowledge. 

LXIX.  That  magnitude,  figure,  etc.,  are  known  far  dif- 
ferently from  color,  pain,  etc. 

What  we  have  said  above  will  be  more  manifest,  espe- 
cially if  we  consider  that  size  in  the  body  perceived, 
figure,  motion  ( at  least  local,  for  philosophers  by  fancy- 
ing other  kinds  of  motion  have  rendered  its  nature  less 
intelligible  to  themselves),  the  situation  of  parts,  dura- 
tion, number,  and  those  other  properties  which,  as  we 
have  already  said,  we  clearly  perceive  in  all  bodies,  are 
known  by  us  in  a way  altogether  different  from  that  in 
which  we  know  what  color  is  in  the  same  body,  or  pain, 
smell,  taste,  or  any  other  of  those  properties  which  I 
have  said  above  must  be  referred  to  the  senses.  For 
although  when  we  see  a body  we  are  not  less  assured  of 
its  existence  from  its  appearing  figured  than  from  its 
appearing  colored,*  we  yet  know  with  far  greater  clear- 
ness its  property  of  figure  than  its  color. 

*«  By  the  color  we  perceive  on  occasion  of  it.”  — French. 


PART  I 


329 


LXX.  That  we  may  judge  of  sensible  things  in  two 
ways,  by  the  one  of  which  we  avoid  error,  by  the  other 
fall  into  it. 

It  is  thus  manifest  that  to  say  we  perceive  colors  in 
objects  is  in  reality  equivalent  to  saying  we  perceive 
something  in  objects  and  are  yet  ignorant  of  what  it  is, 
except  as  that  which  determines  in  us  a certain  highly 
vivid  and  clear  sensation,  which  we  call  the  sensation  of 
colors.  There  is,  however,  very  great  diversity  in  the 
manner  of  judging:  for  so  long  as  we  simply  judge  that 
there  is  an  unknown  something  in  objects  (that  is,  in 
things  such  as  they  are,  from  which  the  sensation  reached 
us),  so  far  are  we  from  falling  into  error  that,  on  the 
contrary,  we  thus  rather  provide  against  it,  for  we  are 
less  apt  to  judge  rashly  of  a thing  which  we  observe  we 
do  not  know.  But  when  we  think  we  perceive  colors  in 
objects,  although  we  are  in  reality  ignorant  of  what  we 
then  denominate  color,  and  are  unable  to  conceive  any 
resemblance  between  the  color  we  suppose  to  be  in  ob- 
jects, and  that  of  which  we  are  conscious  in  sensation, 
yet  because  we  do  not  observe  this,  or  because  there  are 
in  objects  several  properties,  as  size,  figure,  number,  etc., 
which,  as  we  clearly  know,  exist,  or  may  exist  in  them 
as  they  are  perceived  by  our  senses  or  conceived  by  our 
understanding,  we  easily  glide  into  the  error  of  holding 
that  what  is  called  color  in  objects  is  something  entirely 
resembling  the  color  we  perceive,  and  thereafter  of  sup- 
posing that  we  have  a clear  perception  of  what  is  in  no 
way  perceived  by  us. 

LXXI.  That  the  chief  cause  of  our  errors  is  to  be 
found  in  the  prejudices  of  our  childhood. 

And  here  we  may  notice  the  first  and  chief  cause  of 
our  errors.  In  early  life  the  mind  was  so  closely  bound 
to  the  body  that  it  attended  to  nothing  beyond  the 
thoughts  by  which  it  perceived  the  objects  that  made  im- 
pression on  the  body ; nor  as  yet  did  it  refer  these 
thoughts  to  anything  existing  beyond  itself,  but  simply 
felt  pain  when  the  body  was  hurt,  or  pleasure  when  any- 
thing beneficial  to  the  body  occurred,  or  if  the  body  was 
so  slightly  affected  that  it  was  neither  greatly  benefited 
nor  hurt,  the  mind  experienced  the  sensations  we  call 
tastes,  smells,  sounds,  heat,  cold,  light,  colors,  and  the 
like,  which  in  truth  are  representative  of  nothing  exist- 


33° 


THE  PRINCIPLES  OF  PHILOSOPHY 


ing  out  of  our  mind,  and  which  vary  according  to  the 
diversities  of  the  parts  and  modes  in  which  the  body  is 
affected.*  The  mind  at  the  same  time  also  perceived 
magnitudes,  figures,  motions,  and  the  like,  which  were 
not  presented  to  it  as  sensations  but  as  things  of  the 
modes  of  things  existing,  or  at  least  capable  of  existing 
out  of  thought,  although  it  did  not  yet  observe  this  dif- 
ference between  these  two  kinds  of  perceptions.  And 
afterward  when  the  machine  of  the  body,  which  has 
been  so  fabricated  by  nature  that  it  can  of  its  own  in- 
herent power  move  itself  in  various  ways,  by  turning 
itself  at  random  on  every  side,  followed  after  what  was 
useful  and  avoided  what  was  detrimental ; the  mind,  which 
was  closely  connected  with  it,  reflecting  on  the  objects  it 
pursued  or  avoided,  remarked,  for  the  first  time,  that 
they  existed  out  of  itself,  and  not  only  attributed  to  them 
magnitudes,  figures,  motions,  and  the  like,  which  it  ap- 
prehended either  as  things  or  as  the  modes  of  things, 
but,  in  addition,  attributed  to  them  tastes,  odors  and  the 
other  ideas  of  that  sort,  the  sensations  of  which  were 
caused  by  itself  ;f  and  as  it  only  considered  other  objects 
in  so  far  as  they  were  useful  to  the  body,  in  which  it  was 
immersed,  it  judged  that  there  was  greater  or  less  reality 
in  each  object,  according  as  the  impressions  it  caused  on 
the  body  were  more  or  less  powerful.  Hence  arose  the 
belief  that  there  was  more  substance  or  body  in  rocks 
and  metals  than  in  air  or  water,  because  the  mind  per- 
ceived in  them  more  hardness  and  weight.  Moreover, 
the  air  was  thought  to  be  merely  nothing  so  long  as  we 
experienced  no  agitation  of  it  by  the  wind,  or  did  not 
feel  it  hot  or  cold.  And  because  the  stars  gave  hardly 
more  light  than  the  slender  flames  of  candles,  we  sup- 
posed that  each  star  was  but  of  this  size.  Again,  since 
the  mind  did  not  observe  that  the  earth  moved  on  its 
axis,  or  that  its  superficies  was  curved  like  that  of  a globe, 
it  was  on  that  account  more  ready  to  judge  the  earth 
immovable  and  its  surface  flat.  And  our  mind  has  been 
imbued  from  our  infancy  with  a thousand  other  preju- 

* « Which  vary  according  to  the  diversities  of  the  movements  that 
pass  from  all  parts  of  our  body  to  the  part  of  the  brain  to  which 
it  (the  mind)  is  closely  joined  and  united. ® — French. 

f « Which  it  perceived  on  occasion  of  them » ( i.  e. , of  external  ob- 
jects ). — French. 


PART  I 


33i 


dices  of  the  same  sort,  which  afterward  in  our  youth  we 
forgot  we  had  accepted  without  sufficient  examination, 
and  admitted  as  possessed  of  the  highest  truth  and  clear- 
ness, as  if  they  had  been  known  by  means  of  our  senses, 
or  implanted  in  us  by  nature. 

LXXII.  That  the  second  cause  of  our  errors  is  that  we 
cannot  forget  these  prejudices. 

And  although  now  in  our  mature  years,  when  the  mind, 
being  no  longer  wholly  subject  to  the  body,  is  not  in  the 
habit  of  referring  all  things  to  it,  but  also  seeks  to  dis- 
cover the  truth  of  things  considered  in  themselves,  we 
observe  the  falsehood  of  a great  many  of  the  judgments 
we  had  before  formed;  yet  we  experience  a difficulty  in 
expunging  them  from  our  memory,  and,  so  long  as  they 
remain  there,  they  give  rise  to  various  errors.  Thus,  for 
example,  since  from  our  earliest  years  we  imagined  the 
stars  to  be  of  very  small  size,  we  find  it  highly  difficult 
to  rid  ourselves  of  this  imagination,  although  assured  by 
plain  astronomical  reasons  that  they  are  of  the  greatest, 
so  prevailing  is  the  power  of  preconceived  opinion. 

LXXIII.  The  third  cause  is,  that  we  become  fatigued 
by  attending  to  those  objects  which  are  not  present  to 
the  senses ; and  that  we  are  thus  accustomed  to  judge  of  these 
not  from  present  perception  but  from  preconceived  opinion. 

Besides,  our  mind  cannot  attend  to  any  object  without 
at  length  experiencing  some  pain  and  fatigue ; and  of  all 
objects  it  has  the  greatest  difficulty  in  attending  to  those 
which  are  present  neither  to  the  senses  nor  to  the  imagina- 
tion : whether  for  the  reason  that  this  is  natural  to  it  from 
its  union  with  the  body,  or  because  in  our  early  years, 
being  occupied  merely  with  perceptions  and  imaginations, 
it  has  become  more  familiar  with,  and  acquired  greater 
facility  in  thinking  in  those  modes  than  in  any  other. 
Hence  it  also  happens  that  many  are  unable  to  conceive 
any  substance  except  what  is  imaginable  and  corporeal, 
and  even  sensible.  For  they  are  ignorant  of  the  circum- 
stance, that  those  objects  alone  are  imaginable  which  con- 
sist in  extension,  motion,  and  figure,  while  there  are 
many  others  besides  these  that  are  intelligible;  and  they 
persuade  themselves  that  nothing  can  subsist  but  body, 
and,  finally,  that  there  is  no  body  which  is  not  sensible. 
And  since  in  truth  we  perceive  no  object  such  as  it  is  by 
sense  alone  (but  only  by  our  reason  exercised  upon  sen- 


332 


THE  PRINCIPLES  OF  PHILOSOPHY 


sible  objects],  as  will  hereafter  be  clearly  shown,  it  thus 
happens  that  the  majority  during  life  perceive  nothing 
unless  in  a confused  way. 

LXXIV.  The  fourth  source  of  our  errors  is,  that  we 
attach  our  thoughts  to  words  which  do  not  express  them 
with  accuracy. 

Finally,  since  for  the  use  of  speech  we  attach  all  our 
conceptions  to  words  by  which  to  express  them,  and 
commit  to  memory  our  thoughts  in  connection  with  these 
terms,  and  as  we  afterward  find  it  more  easy  to  recall 
the  words  than  the  things  signified  by  them,  we  can 
scarcely  conceive  anything  with  such  distinctness  as  to 
separate  entirely  what  we  conceive  from  the  words  that 
were  selected  to  express  it.  On  this  account  the 
majority  attend  to  words  rather  than  to  things;  and  thus 
very  frequently  assent  to  terms  without  attaching  to 
them  any  meaning,  either  because  they  think  they  once 
understood  them,  or  imagine  they  received  them  from 
others  by  whom  they  were  correctly  understood.  This, 
however,  is  not  the  place  to  treat  of  this  matter  in  de- 
tail, seeing  the  nature  of  the  human  body  has  not 
yet  been  expounded,  nor  the  existence  even  of  body 
established;  enough,  nevertheless,  appears  to  have  been 
said  to  enable  one  to  distinguish  such  of  our  conceptions 
as  are  clear  and  distinct  from  those  that  are  obscure  and 
confused. 

LXXV.  Summary  of  what  must  be  observed  in  order  to 
philosophize  correctly. 

Wherefore  if  we  would  philosophize  in  earnest,  and  give 
ourselves  to  the  search  after  all  the  truths  we  are  cap- 
able of  knowing,  we  must,  in  the  first  place,  lay  aside 
our  prejudices;  in  other  words,  we  must  take  care  scrup- 
ulously to  withhold  our  assent  from  the  opinions  we  have 
formerly  admitted,  until  upon  new  examination  we  dis- 
cover that  they  are  true.  We  must,  in  the  next  place, 
make  an  orderly  review  of  the  notions  we  have  in  our 
minds,  and  hold  as  true  all  and  only  those  which  we  will 
clearly  and  distinctly  apprehend.  In  this  way  we  will 
observe,  first  of  all,  that  we  exist  in  so  far  as  it  is  our 
nature  to  think,  and  at  the  same  time  that  there  is  a 
God  upon  whom  we  depend;  and  after  considering  his 
attributes  we  will  be  able  to  investigate  the  truth  of  all 
other  things,  since  God  is  the  cause  of  them.  Besides 


PART  II 


333 


the  notions  we  have  of  God  and  of  our  mind,  we  will 
likewise  find  that  we  possess  the  knowledge  of  many 
propositions  which  are  eternally  true,  as,  for  example, 
that  nothing  cannot  be  the  cause  of  anything,  etc.  We 
will  further  discover  in  our  minds  the  knowledge  of  a 
corporeal  or  extended  nature  that  may  be  moved,  divided, 
etc.,  and  also  of  certain  sensations  that  affect  us,  as  of 
pain,  colors,  tastes,  etc.,  although  we  do  not  yet  know 
the  cause  of  our  being  so  affected;  and,  comparing  what 
we  have  now  learned,  by  examining  those  things  in  their 
order,  with  our  former  confused  knowledge  of  them,  we 
will  acquire  the  habit  of  forming  clear  and  distinct  con- 
ceptions of  all  the  objects  we  are  capable  of  knowing.  In 
these  few  precepts  seem  to  me  to  be  comprised  the  most 
general  and  important  principles  of  human  kowledge. 

LXXVI.  That  we  ought  to  prefer  the  Divine  authority 
to  our  perception:*  but  that,  apart  from  things  revealed, 
we  ought  to  assent  to  nothing  that  we  do  not  clearly 
apprehend. 

Above  all  we  must  impress  on  our  memory  the  infalli- 
ble rule,  that  what  God  has  revealed  is  incomparably 
more  certain  than  anything  else;  and  that  we  ought  to 
submit  our  belief  to  the  Divine  authority  rather  than  to 
our  own  judgment,  even  although  perhaps  the  light  of 
reason  should,  with  the  greatest  clearness  and  evidence, 
appear  to  suggest  to  us  something  contrary  to  what  is 
revealed.  But  in  things  regarding  which  there  is  no 
revelation,  it  is  by  no  means  consistent  with  the  character 
of  a philosopher  to  accept  as  true  what  he  has  not 
ascertained  to  be  such,  and  to  trust  more  to  the  senses, 
in  other  words,  to  the  inconsiderate  judgments  of  child- 
hood than  to  the  dictates  of  mature  reason. 


PART  II. 

Of  the  Principles  of  Material  Things. 

I.  The  grounds  on  which  the  existence  of  material 
things  may  be  known  with  certainty. 

Although  we  are  all  sufficiently  persuaded  of  the  exist- 
ence of  material  things,  yet,  since  this  was  before  called 
* <(  Reasonings.® — French. 


334 


THE  PRINCIPLES  OF  PHILOSOPHY 


in  question  by  us,  and  since  we  reckoned  the  persuasion 
of  their  existence  as  among  the  prejudices  of  our  child- 
hood, it  is  now  necessary  for  us  to  investigate  the  grounds 
on  which  this  truth  may  be  known  with  certainty.  In  the 
first  place,  then,  it  cannot  be  doubted  that  every  percep- 
tion we  have  comes  to  us  from  some  object  different  from 
our  mind;  for  it  is  not  in  our  power  to  cause  ourselves 
to  experience  one  perception  rather  than  another,  the  per- 
ception being  entirely  dependent  on  the  object  which 
affects  our  senses.  It  may,  indeed,  be  matter  of  inquiry 
whether  that  object  be  God,  or  something  different  from 
God;  but  because  we  perceive,  or  rather,  stimulated  by 
sense,  clearly  and  distinctly  apprehend,  certain  matter  ex- 
tended in  length,  breadth,  and  thickness,  the  various  parts 
of  which  have  different  figures  and  motions,  and  give  rise 
to  the  sensations  we  have  of  colors,  smells,  pain,  etc.,  God 
would,  without  question,  deserve  to  be  regarded  as  a de- 
ceiver, if  he  directly  and  of  himself  presented  to  our  mind 
the  idea  of  this  extended  matter,  or  merely  caused  it  to 
be  presented  to  us  by  some  object  which  possessed  neither 
extension,  figure,  nor  motion.  For  we  clearly  conceive 
this  matter  as  entirely  distinct  from  God,  and  from  our- 
selves, or  our  mind;  and  appear  even  clearly  to  discern 
that  the  idea  of  it  is  formed  in  us  on  occasion  of  objects 
existing  out  of  our  minds,  to  which  it  is  in  every  respect 
similar.  But  since  God  cannot  deceive  us,  for  this  is 
repugnant  to  his  nature,  as  has  been  already  remarked, 
we  must  unhesitatingly  conclude  that  there  exists  a certain 
object  extended  in  length,  breadth,  and  thickness,  and 
possessing  all  those  properties  which  we  clearly  apprehend 
to  belong  to  what  is  extended.  And  this  extended  sub- 
stance is  what  we  call  body  or  matter. 

II.  How  we  likewise  know  that  the  human  body  is 
closely  connected  with  the  mind. 

We  ought  also  to  conclude  that  a certain  body  is  more 
closely  united  to  our  mind  than  any  other,  because  we 
clearly  observe  that  pain  and  other  sensations  affect  us 
without  our  foreseeing  them ; and  these,  the  mind  is  con- 
scious, do  not  arise  from  itself  alone,  nor  pertain  to  it,  in 
so  far  as  it  is  a thing  which  thinks,  but  only  in  so  far 
as  it  is  united  to  another  thing  extended  and  movable, 
which  is  called  the  human  body.  But  this  is  not  the 
place  to  treat  in  detail  of  this  matter. 


PART  II 


335 


III.  That  the  perceptions  of  the  senses  do  not  teach 
us  what  is  in  reality  in  things,  but  what  is  beneficial  or 
hurtful  to  the  composite  whole  of  mind  and  body. 

It  will  be  sufficient  to  remark  that  the  perceptions  of 
the  senses  are  merely  to  be  referred  to  this  intimate 
union  of  the  human  body  and  mind,  and  that  they 
usually  make  us  aware  of  what,  in  external  objects,  may 
be  useful  or  adverse  to  this  union,  but  do  not  present  to 
us  these  objects  as  they  are  in  themselves,  unless  occa- 
sionally and  by  accident.  For,  after  this  observation,  we 
will  without  difficulty  lay  aside  the  prejudices  of  the  senses, 
and  will  have  recourse  to  our  understanding  alone  on 
this  question,  by  reflecting  carefully  on  the  ideas  im- 
planted in  it  by  nature. 

IV.  That  the  nature  of  body  consists  not  in  weight, 
hardness,  color,  and  the  like,  but  in  extension  alone. 

In  this  way  we  will  discern  that  the  nature  of  matter 
or  body  considered  in  general,  does  not  consist  in  its 
being  hard,  or  ponderous,  or  colored,  or  that  which  affects 
our  senses  in  any  other  way,  but  simply  in  its  being  a 
substance  extended  in  length,  breadth,  and  depth.  For, 
with  respect  to  hardness,  we  know  nothing  of  it  by  sense 
farther  than  that  the  parts  of  hard  bodies  resist  the 
motion  of  our  hands  on  coming  into  contact  with  them; 
but  if  every  time  our  hands  moved  toward  any  part,  all 
the  bodies  in  that  place  receded  as  quickly  as  our  hands 
approached,  we  should  never  feel  hardness;  and  yet  we 
have  no  reason  to  believe  that  bodies  which  might  thus 
recede  would  on  this  account  lose  that  which  makes  them 
bodies.  The  nature  of  body  does  not,  therefore,  consist 
in  hardness.  In  the  same  way,  it  may  be  shown  that 
weight,  color,  and  all  the  other  qualities  of  this  sort, 
which  are  perceived  in  corporeal  matter,  may  be  taken 
from  it,  itself  meanwhile  remaining  entire : it  thus  follows 
that  the  nature  of  body  depends  on  none  of  these. 

V.  That  the  truth  regarding  the  nature  of  body  is  ob- 
scured by  the  opinions  respecting  rarefaction  and  a vacuum 
with  which  we  are  preoccupied. 

There  still  remain  two  causes  to  prevent  its  being  fully 
admitted  that  the  true  nature  of  body  consists  in  extension 
alone.  The  first  is  the  prevalent  opinion,  that  most  bodies 
admit  of  being  so  rarefied  and  condensed  that,  when  rare- 
fied, they  have  greater  extension  than  when  condensed; 


336 


THE  PRINCIPLES  OF  PHILOSOPHY 


and  some  even  have  subtilized  to  such  a degree  as  to  make 
a distinction  between  the  substance  of  body  and  its  quan- 
tity, and  between  quantity  itself  and  extension.  The  sec- 
ond cause  is  this,  that  where  we  conceive  only  extension 
in  length,  breadth,  and  depth,  we  are  not  in  the  habit 
of  saying  that  body  is  there,  but  only  space  and  further  void 
space,  which  the  generality  believe  to  be  a mere  negation. 

VI.  In  what  way  rarefaction  takes  place. 

But  with  regard  to  rarefaction  and  condensation,  who- 
ever gives  his  attention  to  his  own  thoughts,  and  admits 
nothing  of  which  he  is  not  clearly  conscious,  will  not 
suppose  that  there  is  anything  in  those  processes  further 
than  a change  of  figure  in  the  body  rarefied  or  condensed ; 
so  that,  in  other  words,  rare  bodies  are  those  between  the 
parts  of  which  there  are  numerous  distances  filled  with 
other  bodies;  and  dense  bodies,  on  the  other  hand,  those 
whose  parts  approaching  each  other,  either  diminish  these 
distances,  or  take  them  wholly  away,  in  the  latter  of  which 
cases  the  body  is  rendered  absolutely  dense.  The  body, 
however,  when  condensed,  has  not,  therefore,  less  exten- 
sion than  when  the  parts  embrace  a greater  space,  owing 
to  their  removal  from  each  other,  and  their  dispersion 
into  branches.  For  we  ought  not  to  attribute  to  it  the 
extension  of  the  pores  or  distances  which  its  parts  do 
not  occupy  when  it  is  rarefied,  but  to  the  other  bodies 
that  fill  these  interstices;  just  as  when  we  see  a sponge 
full  of  water  or  any  other  liquid,  we  do  not  suppose  that 
each  part  of  the  sponge  has  on  this  account  greater  ex- 
tension than  when  compressed  and  dry,  but  only  that  its 
pores  are  wider,  and  therefore  that  the  body  is  diffused 
over  a larger  space. 

VII.  That  rarefaction  cannot  be  intelligibly  explained 
unless  in  the  way  here  proposed. 

And  indeed  I am  unable  to  discover  the  force  of  the 
reasons  which  have  induced  some  to  say  that  rarefaction  is 
the  result  of  the  augmentation  of  the  quantity  of  body, 
rather  than  to  explain  it  on  the  principle  exemplified  in 
the  case  of  a sponge.  For  although  when  air  or  water 
are  rarefied  we  do  not  see  any  of  the  pores  that  are  ren- 
dered large,  or  the  new  body  that  is  added  to  occupy  them, 
it  is  yet  less  agreeable  to  reason  to  suppose  something  that 
is  unintelligible  for  the  purpose  of  giving  a verbal  and 
merely  apparent  explanation  of  the  rarefaction  of  bodies, 


PART  II 


337 


than  to  conclude,  because  of  their  rarefaction,  that  there 
are  pores  or  distances  between  the  parts  which  are 
increased  in  size,  and  filled  with  some  new  body.  Nor 
ought  we  to  refrain  from  assenting  to  this  explanation, 
because  we  perceive  this  new  body  by  none  of  our  senses, 
for  there  is  no  reason  which  obliges  us  to  believe  that  we 
should  perceive  by  our  senses  all  the  bodies  in  existence. 
And  we  see  that  it  is  very  easy  to  explain  rarefaction  in 
this  manner,  but  impossible  in  any  other;  for,  in  fine, 
there  would  be,  as  appears  to  me,  a manifest  contradiction 
in  supposing  that  any  body  was  increased  by  a quantity  or 
extension  which  it  had  not  before,  without  the  addition  to 
it  of  a new  extended  substance,  in  other  words,  of  another 
body,  because  it  is  impossible  to  conceive  any  addition  of 
extension  or  quantity  to  a thing  without  supposing  the 
addition  of  a substance  having  quantity  or  extension,  as 
will  more  clearly  appear  from  what  follows. 

VIII.  That  quantity  and  number  differ  only  in  thought 
( ratione ) from  that  which  has  quantity  and  is  numbered. 

For  quantity  differs  from  extended  substance,  and  num- 
ber from  what  is  numbered,  not  in  reality  but  merely  in 
our  thought;  so  that,  for  example,  we  may  consider  the 
whole  nature  of  a corporeal  substance  which  is  comprised 
in  a space  of  ten  feet,  although  we  do  not  attend  to  this 
measure  of  ten  feet,  for  the  obvious  reason  that  the  thing 
conceived  is  of  the  same  nature  in  any  part  of  that  space 
as  in  the  whole;  and,  on  the  other  hand,  we  can  con- 
ceive the  number  ten,  as  also  a continuous  quantity  of 
ten  feet,  without  thinking  of  this  determinate  substance, 
because  the  concept  of  the  number  ten  is  manifestly  the 
same  whether  we  consider  a number  of  ten  feet  or  ten 
of  anything  else  ; and  we  can  conceive  a continuous 
quantity  of  ten  feet  without  thinking  of  this  or  that  de- 
terminate substance,  although  we  cannot  conceive  it  with- 
out some  extended  substance  of  which  it  is  the  quantity. 
It  is  in  reality,  however,  impossible  that  any,  even  th<e 
least  part,  of  such  quantity  or  extension,  can  be  taken 
away,  without  the  retrenchment  at  the  same  time  of  as 
much  of  the  substance,  nor  on  the  other  hand  can  we 
lessen  the  substance  without  at  the  same  time  taking  as 
much  from  the  quantity  or  extension. 

IX.  That  corporeal  substance,  when  distinguished  from  its 
quantity,  is  confusedly  conceived  as  something  incorporeal. 

22 


338 


THE  PRINCIPLES  OP  PHILOSOPHY 


Although  perhaps  some  express  themselves  otherwise 
on  this  matter,  I am  nevertheless  convinced  that  they  clo 
not  think  differently  from  what  I have  now  said:  for 
when  they  distinguish  (corporeal)  substance  from  exten- 
sion or  quantity,  they  either  mean  nothing  by  the  word 
(corporeal)  substance,  or  they  form  in  their  mind  merely 
a confused  idea  of  incorporeal  substance,  which  they  falsely 
attribute  to  corporeal,  and  leave  to  extension  the  true  idea 
of  this  corporeal  substance ; which  extension  they  call  an 
accident,  but  with  such  impropriety  as  to  make  it  easy 
to  discover  that  their  words  are  not  in  harmony  with 
their  thoughts. 

X.  What  space  or  internal  place  is. 

Space  or  internal  place,  and  the  corporeal  substance 
which  is  comprised  in  it,  are  not  different  in  reality,  but 
merely  in  the  mode  in  which  they  are  wont  to  be  con- 
ceived by  us.  For,  in  truth,  the  same  extension  in 
length,  breadth,  and  depth,  which  constitutes  space,  con- 
stitutes body;  and  the  difference  between  them  lies  only 
in  this,  that  in  body  we  consider  extension  as  particular, 
and  conceive  it  to  change  with  the  body;  whereas  in 
space  we  attribute  to  extension  a generic  unity,  so  that 
after  taking  from  a certain  space  the  body  which  occu- 
pied it,  we  do  not  suppose  that  we  have  at  the  same  time 
removed  the  extension  of  the  space,  because  it  appears  to 
us  that  the  same  extension  remains  there  so  long  as  it  is 
of  the  same  magnitude  and  figure,  and  preserves  the  same 
situation  in  respect  to  certain  bodies  around  it,  by  means 
of  which  we  determine  this  space. 

XI.  How  space  is  not  in  reality  different  from  cor- 
poreal substance. 

And  indeed  it  will  be  easy  to  discern  that  it  is  the 
same  extension  which  constitutes  the  nature  of  body  as 
of  space,  and  that  these  two  things  are  mutually  diverse 
only  as  the  nature  of  the  genus  and  species  differs  from 
that  of  the  individual,  provided  we  reflect  on  the  idea  we 
have  of  any  body,  taking  a stone  for  example,  and  re- 
ject all  that  is  not  essential  to  the  nature  of  body.  In 
the  first  place,  then,  hardness  may  be  rejected,  because 
if  the  stone  were  liquefied  or  reduced  to  powder,  it 
would  no  longer  possess  hardness,  and  yet  would  not 
cease  to  be  a body ; color  also  may  be  thrown  out  of  ac- 
count, because  we  have  frequently  seen  stones  so  trans- 


PART  II 


339 


parent  as  to  have  no  color;  again,  we  may  reject  weight, 
because  we  have  the  case  of  fire,  which,  though  very 
light,  is  still  a body;  and,  finally,  we  may  reject  cold, 
heat,  and  all  the  other  qualities  of  this  sort,  either  be- 
cause they  are  not  considered  as  in  the  stone,  or  because, 
with  the  change  of  these  qualities,  the  stone  is  not  sup- 
posed to  have  lost  the  nature  of  body.  After  this  examina- 
tion we  will  find  that  nothing  remains  in  the  idea  of 
body,  except  that  it  is  something  extended  in  length, 
breadth,  and  depth ; and  this  something  is  comprised  in  our 
idea  of  space,  not  only  of  that  which  is  full  of  body,  but 
even  of  what  is  called  void  space. 

XII.  How  space  differs  from  body  in  our  mode  of  con- 
ceiving it. 

There  is,  however,  some  difference  between  them  in 
the  mode  of  conception;  for  if  we  remove  a stone  from 
the  space  or  place  in  which  it  was,  we  conceive  that  its 
extension  also  is  taken  away,  because  we  regard  this  as 
particular  and  inseparable  from  the  stone  itself ; but 
meanwhile  we  suppose  that  the  same  extension  of  place 
in  which  this  stone  was  remains,  although  the  place  of 
the  stone  be  occupied  by  wood,  water,  air,  or  by  any 
other  body,  or  be  even  supposed  vacant,  because  we  now 
consider  extension  in  general,  and  think  that  the  same  is 
common  to  stones,  wood,  water,  air,  and  other  bodies, 
and  even  to  a vacuum  itself  if  there  is  any  such  thing, 
provided  it  be  of  the  same  magnitude  and  figure  as  be- 
fore and  preserve  the  same  situation  among  the  external 
bodies  which  determine  this  space. 

XIII.  What  external  place  is. 

The  reason  of  which  is,  that  the  words  place  and  space 
signify  nothing  really  different  from  body  which  is  said 
to  be  in  place,  but  merely  designate  its  magnitude,  figure, 
and  situation  among  other  bodies.  For  it  is  necessary, 
in  order  to  determine  this  situation,  to  regard  certain 
other  bodies  which  we  consider  as  immovable;  and, 
according  as  we  look  to  different  bodies,  we  may  see 
that  the  same  thing  at  the  same  time  does  and  does  not 
change  place.  For  example,  when  a vessel  is  being  car- 
ried out  to  sea,  a person  sitting  at  the  stern  may  be  said 
to  remain  always  in  one  place,  if  we  look  to  the  parts  of 
the  vessel,  since  with  respect  to  these  he  preserves  the 
same  situation;  and  on  the  other  hand,  if  regard  be  had 


340 


THE  PRINCIPLES  OF  PHILOSOPHY 


to  the  neighboring  shores,  the  same  person  will  seem 
to  be  perpetually  changing  place,  seeing  he  is  constantly 
receding  from  one  shore  and  approaching  another.  And 
besides,  if  we  suppose  that  the  earth  moves,  and  that  it 
makes  precisely  as  much  way  from  west  to  east  as  the 
vessel  from  east  to  west,  we  will  again  say  that  the  per- 
son at  the  stern  does  not  change  his  place,  because  this 
place  will  be  determined  by  certain  immovable  points 
which  we  imagine  to  be  in  the  heavens.  But  if  at  length 
we  are  persuaded  that  there  are  no  points  really  immov- 
able in  the  universe,  as  will  hereafter  be  shown  to  be 
probable,  we  will  thence  conclude  that  nothing  has  a 
permanent  place  unless  in  so  far  as  it  is  fixed  by  our 
thought. 

XIV.  Wherein  place  and  space  differ. 

The  terms  place  and  space,  however,  differ  in  significa- 
tion, because  place  more  expressly  designates  situation 
than  magnitude  or  figure,  while,  on  the  other  hand,  we 
think  of  the  latter  when  we  speak  of  space  For  we 
frequently  say  that  a thing  succeeds  to  the  place  of  an- 
other, although  it  be  not  exactly  of  the  same  magnitude 
or  figure ; but  we  do  not  therefore  admit  that  it  occupies 
the  same  space  as  the  other;  and  when  the  situation  is 
changed  we  say  that  the  place  also  is  changed,  although 
there  are  the  same  magnitude  and  figure  as  before:  so 
that  when  we  say  that  a thing  is  in  a particular  place, 
we  mean  merely  that  it  is  situated  in  a determinate  way 
in  respect  of  certain  other  objects;  and  when  we  add 
that  it  occupies  such  a space  or  place,  we  understand  be- 
sides that  it  is  of  such  determinate  magnitude  and  figure 
as  exactly  to  fill  this  space. 

XV.  How  external  place  is  rightly  taken  for  the  super- 
ficies of  the  surrounding  body. 

And  thus  we  never  indeed  distinguish  space  from  ex- 
tension in  length,  breadth,  and  depth;  we  sometimes, 
however,  consider  place  as  in  the  thing  placed,  and  at 
other  times  as  out  of  it.  Internal  place  indeed  differs  in 
no  way  from  space ; but  external  place  may  be  taken  for 
the  superficies  that  immediately  surrounds  the  thing 
placed.  It  ought  to  be  remarked  that  by  superficies  we 
do  not  here  understand  any  part  of  the  surrounding  body, 
but  only  the  boundary  between  the  surrounding  and  sur- 
rounded bodies,  which  is  nothing  more  than  a mode;  or 


PART  II 


34i 


at  least  that  we  speak  of  superficies  in  general  which  is 
no  part  of  one  body  rather  than  another,  but  is  always 
considered  the  same,  provided  it  retain  the  same  magni- 
tude and  figure.  For  although  the  whole  surrounding 
body  with  its  superficies  were  changed,  it  would  not  be 
supposed  that  the  body  which  was  surrounded  by  it  had 
therefore  changed  its  place,  if  it  meanwhile  preserved  the 
same  situation  with  respect  to  the  other  bodies  that  are 
regarded  as  immovable.  Thus,  if  we  suppose  that  a boat 
is  carried  in  one  direction  by  the  current  of  a stream, 
and  impelled  by  the  wind  in  the  opposite  with  an  equal 
force,  so  that  its  situation  with  respect  to  the  banks  is 
not  changed,  we  will  readily  admit  that  it  remains  in 
the  same  place,  although  the  whole  superficies  which 
surrounds  it  is  incessantly  changing. 

XVI.  That  a vacuum  or  space  in  which  there  is  abso- 
lutely no  body  is  repugnant  to  reason. 

With  regard  to  a vacuum,  in  the  philosophical  sense 
of  the  term,  that  is,  a space  in  which  there  is  no  sub- 
stance, it  is  evident  that  such  does  not  exist,  seeing  the 
extension  of  space  or  internal  place  is  not  different  from 
that  of  body.  For  since  from  this  alone,  that  a body 
has  extension  in  length,  breadth,  and  depth,  we  have 
reason  to  conclude  that  it  is  a substance,  it  being  abso- 
lutely contradictory  that  nothing  should  possess  exten- 
sion, we  ought  to  form  a similar  inference  regarding  the 
space  which  is  supposed  void,  viz,  that  since  there  is 
extension  in  it  there  is  necessarily  also  substance. 

XVII.  That  a vacuum  in  the  ordinary  use  of  the  term 
does  not  exclude  all  body. 

And,  in  truth,  by  the  term  vacuum  in  its  common  use, 
we  do  not  mean  a place  or  space  in  which  there  is  abso- 
lutely nothing,  but  only  a place  in  which  there  is  none 
of  those  things  we  presume  ought  to  be  there.  Thus, 
because  a pitcher  is  made  to  hold  water,  it  is  said  to  be 
empty  when  it  is  merely  filled  with  air;  or  if  there  are 
no  fish  in  a fish-pond,  we  say  there  is  nothing  in  it, 
although  it  be  full  of  water;  thus  a vessel  is  said  to  be 
empty,  when,  in  place  of  the  merchandise  which  it  was 
designed  to  carry,  it  is  loaded  with  sand  only,  to  enable 
it  to  resist  the  violence  of  the  wind;  and,  finally,  it  is  in 
the  same  sense  that  we  say  space  is  void  when  it  con- 
tains nothing  sensible,  although  it  contain  created  and 


342 


THE  PRINCIPLES  OF  PHILOSOPHY 


self-subsisting  matter;  for  we  are  not  in  the  habit  of 
considering  the  bodies  near  us,  unless  in  so  far  as  they 
cause  in  our  organs  of  sense  impressions  strong  enough 
to  enable  us  to  perceive  them.  And  if,  in  place  of  keep- 
ing in  mind  what  ought  to  be  understood  by  these  terms 
a vacuum  and  nothing,  we  afterward  suppose  that  in  the 
space  we  called  a vacuum,  there  is  not  only  no  sensible 
object,  but  no  object  at  all,  we  will  fall  into  the  same 
error  as  if,  because  a pitcher  in  which  there  is  nothing 
but  air,  is,  in  common  speech,  said  to  be  empty,  we 
were  therefore  to  judge  that  the  air  contained  in  it  is 
not  a substance  ( res  subsistens). 

XVIII.  How  the  prejudice  of  an  absolute  vacuum  is 
to  be  corrected. 

We  have  almost  all  fallen  into  this  error  from  the  ear- 
liest age,  for,  observing  that  there  is  no  necessary  con- 
nection between  a vessel  and  the  body  it  contains,  we 
thought  that  God  at  least  could  take  from  a vessel  the 
body  which  occupied  it,  without  it  being  necessary  that 
any  other  should  be  put  in  the  place  of  the  one  removed. 
But  that  we  may  be  able  now  to  correct  this  false  opinion, 
it  is  necessary  to  remark  that  there  is  in  truth  no  con- 
nection between  the  vessel  and  the  particular  body  which 
it  contains,  but  that  there  is  an  absolutely  necessary 
connection  between  the  concave  figure  of  the  vessel  and 
the  extension  considered  generally  which  must  be  com- 
prised in  this  cavity;  so  that  it  is  not  more  contradictory 
to  conceive  a mountain  without  a valley  than  such  a 
cavity  without  the  extension  it  contains,  or  this  extension 
apart  from  an  extended  substance,  for,  as  we  have  often 
said,  of  nothing  there  can  be  no  extension.  And  accord- 
ingly, if  it  be  asked  what  would  happen  were  God  to 
remove  from  a vessel  all  the  body  contained  in  it,  with- 
out permitting  another  body  to  occupy  its  place,  the 
answer  must  be  that  the  sides  of  the  vessel  would  thus 
come  into  proximity  with  each  other.  For  two  bodies 
must  touch  each  other  when  there  is  nothing  between 
them,  and  it  is  manifestly  contradictory  for  two  bodies 
to  be  apart,  in  other  words,  that  there  should  be  a dis- 
tance between  them,  and  the  distance  yet  be  nothing; 
for  all  distance  is  a mode  of  extension,  and  cannot  there- 
fore exist  without  an  extended  substance. 

XIX.  That  this  confirms  what  was  said  of  rarefaction. 


PART  II 


343 


After  we  have  thus  remarked  that  the  nature  of  cor- 
poreal substance  consists  only  in  its  being  an  extended 
thing,  and  that  its  extension  is  not  different  from  that 
which  we  attribute  to  space,  however  empty,  it  is  easy 
to  discover  the  impossibility  of  any  one  of  its  parts  in 
any  way  whatsoever  occupying  more  space  at  one  time 
than  at  another,  and  thus  of  being  otherwise  rarefied 
than  in  the  way  explained  above;  and  it  is  easy  to  per- 
ceive also  that  there  cannot  be  more  matter  or  body  in  a 
vessel  when  it  is  filled  with  lead  or  gold,  or  any  other 
body  however  heavy  and  hard,  than  when  it  but  contains 
air  and  is  supposed  to  be  empty:  for  the  quantity  of  the 
parts  of  which  a body  is  composed  does  not  depend  on 
their  weight  or  hardness,  but  only  on  the  extension,  which 
is  always  equal  in  the  same  vase. 

XX.  That  from  this  the  non-existence  of  atoms  may 
likewise  be  demonstrated. 

We  likewise  discover  that  there  cannot  exist  any  atoms 
or  parts  of  matter  that  are  of  their  own  nature  indivisi- 
ble. For  however  small  we  suppose  these  parts  to  be, 
yet  because  they  are  necessarily  extended,  we  are  always 
able  in  thought  to  divide  any  one  of  them  into  two  or 
more  smaller  parts,  and  may  accordingly  admit  their  di- 
visibility. For  there  is  nothing  we  can  divide  in  thought 
which  we  do  not  thereby  recognize  to  be  divisible;  and, 
therefore,  were  we  to  judge  it  indivisible  our  judgment 
would  not  be  in  harmony  with  the  knowledge  we  have 
of  the  thing;  and  although  we  should  even  suppose  that 
God  had  reduced  any  particle  of  matter  to  a smallness  so 
extreme  that  it  did  not  admit  of  being  further  divided,  it 
would  nevertheless  be  improperly  styled  indivisible,  for 
though  God  had  rendered  the  particle  so  small  that  it 
was  not  in  the  power  of  any  creature  to  divide  it,  he  could 
not  however  deprive  himself  of  the  ability  to  do  so,  since 
it  is  absolutely  impossible  for  him  to  lessen  his  own  om- 
nipotence, as  was  before  observed.  Wherefore,  absolutely 
speaking,  the  smallest  extended  particle  is  always  divisi- 
ble, since  it  is  such  of  its  very  nature. 

XXI.  It  is  thus  also  demonstrated  that  the  extension 
of  the  world  is  indefinite. 

We  further  discover  that  this  world  or  the  whole  ( uni- 
versitas ) of  corporeal  substance,  is  extended  without 
limit,  for  wherever  we  fix  a limit,  we  still  not  only  imag- 


344 


THE  PRINCIPLES  OF  PHILOSOPHY 


ine  beyond  it  spaces  indefinitely  extended,  but  perceive 
these  to  be  truly  imaginable,  in  other  words,  to  be  in 
reality  such  as  we  imagine  them ; so  that  they  contain  in 
them  corporeal  substance  indefinitely  extended,  for,  as 
has  been  already  shown  at  length,  the  idea  of  extension 
which  we  conceive  in  any  space  whatever  is  plainly  iden- 
tical with  the  idea  of  corporeal  substance. 

XXII.  It  also  follows  that  the  matter  of  the  heavens 
and  earth  is  the  same,  and  that  there  cannot  be  a plu- 
rality of  worlds. 

And  it  may  also  be  easily  inferred  from  all  this  that 
the  earth  and  heavens  are  made  of  the  same  matter;  and 
that  even  although  there  were  an  infinity  of  worlds,  they 
would  all  be  composed  of  this  matter;  from  which  it  fol- 
lows that  a plurality  of  worlds  is  impossible,  because  we 
clearly  conceive  that  the  matter  whose  nature  consists 
only  in  its  being  an  extended  substance,  already  wholly 
occupies  all  the  imaginable  spaces  where  these  other 
worlds  could  alone  be,  and  we  cannot  find  in  ourselves 
the  idea  of  any  other  matter. 

XXIII.  That  all  the  variety  of  matter,  or  the  diversity 
of  its  forms,  depends  on  motion. 

There  is  therefore  but  one  kind  of  matter  in  the  whole 
universe,  and  this  we  know  only  by  its  being  extended. 
All  the  properties  we  distinctly  perceive  to  belong  to  it 
are  reducible  to  its  capacity  of  being  divided  and  moved 
according  to  its  parts ; and  accordingly  it  is  capable  of  all 
those  affections  which  we  perceive  can  arise  from  the 
motion  of  its  parts.  For  the  partition  of  matter  in  thought 
makes  no  change  in  it;  but  all  variation  of  it,  or  diver- 
sity of  form,  depends  on  motion.  The  philosophers  even 
seem  universally  to  have  observed  this,  for  they  said 
that  nature  was  the  principle  of  motion  and  rest,  and 
by  nature  they  understood  that  by  which  all  corporeal 
things  become  such  as  they  are  found  in  experience. 

XXIV.  What  motion  is,  taking  the  term  in  its  com- 
mon use. 

But  motion  (viz,  local,  for  I can  conceive  no  other 
kind  of  motion,  and  therefore  I do  not  think  we  ought 
to  suppose  there  is  any  other  in  nature),  in  the  ordi- 
nary sense  of  the  term,  is  nothing  more  than  the  action 

BY  WHICH  A BODY  PASSES  FROM  ONE  PLACE  TO  ANOTHER. 

And  just  as  we  have  remarked  above  that  the  same  thing 


PART  III 


345 


may  be  said  to  change  and  not  to  change  place  at  the 
same  time,  so  also  we  may  say  that  the  same  thing  is  at 
the  same  time  moved  and  not  moved.  Thus,  for  example, 
a person  seated  in  a vessel  which  is  setting  sail,  thinks 
he  is  in  motion  if  he  looks  to  the  shore  that  he  has 
left,  and  consider  it  as  fixed;  but  not  if  he  regard  the 
ship  itself,  among  the  parts  of  which  he  preserves  al- 
ways the  same  situation.  Moreover,  because  we  are  ac- 
customed to  suppose  that  there  is  no  motion  without 
action,  and  that  in  rest  there  is  the  cessation  of  action, 
the  person  thus  seated  is  more  properly  said  to  be  at  rest 
than  in  motion,  seeing  he  is  not  conscious  of  being  in 
action. 

XXV.  What  motion  is  properly  so  called. 

But  if,  instead  of  occupying  ourselves  with  that  which 
has  no  foundation,  unless  in  ordinary  usage,  we  desire 
to  know  what  ought  to  be  understood  by  motion  accord- 
ing to  the  truth  of  the  thing,  we  may  say,  in  order  to 
give  it  a determinate  nature,  that  it  is  the  transport- 
ing OF  ONE  PART  OF  MATTER  OR  OF  ONE  BODY  FROM  THE 
VICINITY  OF  THOSE  BODIES  THAT  ARE  IN  IMMEDIATE  CONTACT 
WITH  IT,  OR  WHICH  WE  REGARD  AS  AT  REST,  TO  THE  VICIN- 
ITY of  other  bodies.  By  a body  as  a part  of  matter,  I 
understand  all  that  which  is  transferred  together,  although 
it  be  perhaps  composed  of  several  parts,  which  in  them- 
selves have  other  motions;  and  I say  that  it  is  the 
transporting  and  not  the  force  or  action  which  transports, 
with  the  view  of  showing  that  motion  is  always  in  the 
movable  thing,  not  in  that  which  moves;  for  it  seems  to 
me  that  we  are  not  accustomed  to  distinguish  these  two 
things  with  sufficient  accuracy.  Further,  I understand 
that  it  is  a mode  of  the  movable  thing,  and  not  a sub- 
stance, just  as  figure  is  a property  of  the  thing  figured, 
and  repose  of  that  which  is  at  rest. 


PART  III. 

Of  the  Visible  World. 

I.  That  we  cannot  think  too  highly  of  the  works  of  God. 
Having  now  ascertained  certain  principles  of  material 
things,  which  were  sought,  not  by  the  prejudices  of  the 


346 


THE  PRINCIPLES  OF  PHILOSOPHY 


senses,  but  by  the  light  of  reason,  and  which  thus  possess 
so  great  evidence  that  we  cannot  doubt  of  their  truth,  it 
remains  for  us  to  consider  whether  from  these  alone  we 
can  deduce  the  explication  of  all  the  phenomena  of  nature. 
We  will  commence  with  those  phenomena  that  are  of  the 
greatest  generality,  and  upon  which  the  others  depend,  as, 
for  example,  with  the  general  structure  of  this  whole  visi- 
ble world.  But  in  order  to  our  philosophizing  aright  re- 
garding this,  two  things  are  first  of  all  to  be  observed. 
The  first  is,  that  we  should  ever  bear  in  mind  the  infinity 
of  the  power  and  goodness  of  God,  that  we  may  not  fear 
falling  into  error  by  imagining  his  works  to  be  too  great, 
beautiful,  and  perfect,  but  that  we  may,  on  the  contrary, 
take  care  lest,  by  supposing  limits  to  them  of  which  we 
have  no  certain  knowledge,  we  appear  to  think  less  highly 
than  we  ought  of  the  power  of  God. 

II.  That  we  ought  to  beware  lest,  in  our  presumption, 
we  imagine  that  the  ends  which  God  proposed  to  himself 
in  the  creation  of  the  world  are  understood  by  us. 

The  second  is,  that  we  should  beware  of  presuming  too 
highly  of  ourselves,  as  it  seems  we  should  do  if  we  sup- 
posed certain  limits  to  the  world,  without  being  assured 
of  their  existence  either  by  natural  reasons  or  by  divine 
revelation,  as  if  the  power  of  our  thought  extended  be- 
yond what  God  has  in  reality  made ; but  likewise  still  more 
if  we  persuaded  ourselves  that  all  things  were  created  by 
God  for  us  only,  or  if  we  merely  supposed  that  we  could 
comprehend  by  the  power  of  our  intellect  the  ends 
which  God  proposed  to  himself  in  creating  the  uni- 
verse. 

III.  In  what  sense  it  may  be  said  that  all  things  were 
created  for  the  sake  of  man. 

For  although,  as  far  as  regards  morals,  it  may  be  a pious 
thought  to  believe  that  God  made  all  things  for  us,  see- 
ing we  may  thus  be  incited  to  greater  gratitude  and  love 
toward  him ; and  although  it  is  even  in  some  sense  true, 
because  there  is  no  created  thing  of  which  we  cannot 
make  some  use,  if  it  be  only  that  of  exercising  our  mind 
in  considering  it,  and  honoring  God  on  account  of  it,  it 
is  yet  by  no  means  probable  that  all  things  were  created 
for  us  in  this  way  that  God  had  no  other  end  in  their 
creation;  and  this  supposition  would  be  plainly  ridiculous 
and  inept  in  physical  reasoning,  for  we  do  not  doubt 


PART  IV 


347 


but  that  many  things  exist,  or  formerly  existed  and  have 
now  ceased  to  be,  which  were  never  seen  or  known  by 
man,  and  were  never  of  use  to  him. 


PART  IV. 

Of  the  Earth. 

CLXXXVIII.  Of  what  is  to  be  borrowed  from  dis- 
quisitions on  animals  and  man  to  advance  the  knowledge 
of  material  objects. 

I should  add  nothing  further  to  this  the  Fourth  Part  of 
the  Principles  of  Philosophy,  did  I purpose  carrying  out 
my  original  design  of  writing  a Fifth  and  Sixth  Part, 
the  one  treating  of  things  possessed  of  life,  that  is,  ani- 
mals and  plants,  and  the  other  of  man.  But  because  I 
have  not  yet  acquired  sufficient  knowledge  of  all  the 
matters  of  which  I should  desire  to  treat  in  these  two 
last  parts,  and  do  not  know  whether  I ever  shall  have 
sufficient  leisure  to  finish  them,  I will  here  subjoin  a few 
things  regarding  the  objects  of  our  senses,  that  I may 
not,  for  the  sake  of  the  latter,  delay  too  long  the  pub- 
lication of  the  former  parts,  or  of  what  may  be  de- 
siderated in  them,  which  I might  have  reserved  for 
explanation  in  those  others:  for  I have  hitherto  described 
this  earth,  and  generally  the  whole  visible  world,  as  if  it 
were  merely  a machine  in  which  there  was  nothing  at 
all  to  consider  except  the  figures  and  motions  of  its  parts, 
whereas  our  senses  present  to  us  many  other  things,  for 
example,  colors,  smells,  sounds,  and  the  like,  of  which, 
if  I did  not  speak  at  all,  it  would  be  thought  I had 
omitted  the  explication  of  the  majority  of  the  objects 
that  are  in  nature. 

CLXXXIX.  What  perception  ( sensus ) is,  and  how  we 
perceive. 

We  must  know,  therefore,  that  although  the  human 
soul  is  united  to  the  whole  body,  it  has,  nevertheless, 
its  principal  seat  in  the  brain,  where  alone  it  not  only 
understands  and  imagines,  but  also  perceives;  and  this 
by  the  medium  of  the  nerves,  which  are  extended  like 
threads  from  the  brain  to  all  the  other  members,  with 
which  they  are  so  connected  that  we  can  hardly  touch 


348 


THE  PRINCIPLES  OF  PHILOSOPHY 


any  one  of  them  without  moving  the  extremities  of  some 
of  the  nerves  spread  over  it:  and  this  motion  passes  to 
the  other  extremities  of  those  nerves  which  are  collected 
in  the  brain  round  the  seat  of  the  soul,*  as  I have  al- 
ready explained  with  sufficient  minuteness  in  the  fourth 
chapter  of  the  Dioptrics.  But  the  movements  which  are 
thus  excited  in  the  brain  by  the  nerves,  variously  affect 
the  soul  or  mind,  which  is  intimately  conjoined  with  the 
brain,  according  to  the  diversity  of  the  motions  them- 
selves. And  the  diverse  affections  of  the  mind  or  thoughts 
that  immediately  arise  from  these  motions,  are  called 
perceptions  of  the  senses  ( sensuum  perceptiones ),  or,  as 
we  commonly  speak,  sensations  ( sensus ). 

CXC.  Of  the  distinction  of  the  senses ; and,  first,  of  the 
internal,  that  is,  of  the  affections  of  the  mind  (passions), 
and  the  natural  appetites. 

The  varieties  of  these  sensations  depend,  firstly,  on  the 
diversity  of  the  nerves  themselves,  and,  secondly,  of  the 
movements  that  are  made  in  each  nerve.  We  have  not, 
however,  as  many  different  senses  as  there  are  nerves. 
We  can  distinguish  but  seven  principal  classes  of  nerves, 
of  which  two  belong  to  the  internal,  and  the  other  five 
to  the  external  senses.  The  nerves  which  extend  to  the 
stomach,  the  oesophagus,  the  fauces,  and  the  other  in- 
ternal parts  that  are  subservient  to  our  natural  wants, 
constitute  one  of  our  internal  senses.  This  is  called  the 
natural  appetite  ( appetitus  natur alis).  The  other  internal 
sense,  which  embraces  all  the  emotions  ( commotiones ) of 
the  mind  or  passions,  and  affections,  as  joy,  sadness,  love, 
hate,  and  the  like,  depends  upon  the  nerves  which  extend 
to  the  heart  and  the  parts  about  the  heart,  and  are  ex- 
ceedingly small;  for,  by  way  of  example,  when  the  blood 
happens  to  be  pure  and  well  tempered,  so  that  it  dilates 
in  the  heart  more  readily  and  strongly  than  usual,  this 
so  enlarges  and  moves  the  small  nerves  scattered  around 
the  orifices,  that  there  is  thence  a corresponding  move- 
ment in  the  brain,  which  affects  the  mind  with  a certain 
natural  feeling  of  joy;  and  as  often  as  these  same  nerves 
are  moved  in  the  same  way,  although  this  is  by  other 
causes,  they  excite  in  our  mind  the  same  feeling  [sensus, 
sentiment).  Thus,  the  imagination  of  the  enjoyment  of  a 
good  does  not  contain  in  itself  the  feeling  of  joy,  but  it 

* « Common  Sense. » — French. 


PART  IV 


349 


causes  the  animal  spirits  to  pass  from  the  brain  to  the 
muscles  in  which  these  nerves  are  inserted;  and  thus 
dilating  the  orifices  of  the  heart,  it  also  causes  these 
small  nerves  to  move  in  the  way  appointed  by  nature  to 
afford  the  sensation  of  joy.  Thus,  when  we  receive  news, 
the  mind  first  of  all  judges  of  it,  and  if  the  news  be 
good,  it  rejoices  with  that  intellectual  joy  ( gaudium  intel- 
lectuale)  which  is  independent  of  any  emotion  ( commotio ) 
of  the  body,  and  which  the  Stoics  did  not  deny  to  their 
wise  man  [although  they  supposed  him  exempt  from  all 
passion].  But  as  soon  as  this  joy  passes  from  the  under- 
standing to  the  imagination,  the  spirits  flow  from  the 
brain  to  the  muscles  that  are  about  the  heart,  and  there 
excite  the  motion  of  the  small  nerves,  by  means  of  which 
another  motion  is  caused  in  the  brain,  which  affects  the 
mind  with  the  sensation  of  animal  joy  ( laetitia  animalis). 
On  the  same  principle,  when  the  blood  is  so  thick  that  it 
flows  but  sparingly  into  the  ventricles  of  the  heart,  and 
is  not  there  sufficiently  dilated,  it  excites  in  the  same 
nerves  a motion  quite  different  from  the  preceding, 
which,  communicated  to  the  brain,  gives  to  the  mind  the 
sensation  of  sadness,  although  the  mind  itself  is  perhaps 
ignorant  of  the  cause  of  its  sadness.  And  all  the  other 
causes  which  move  these  nerves  in  the  same  way  may 
also  give  to  the  mind  the  same  sensation.  But  the  other 
movements  of  the  same  nerves  produce  other  effects,  as 
the  feelings  of  love,  hate,  fear,  anger,  etc.,  as  far  as  they 
are  merely  affections  or  passions  of  the  mind;  in  other 
words,  as  far  as  they  are  confused  thoughts  which  the 
mind  has  not  from  itself  alone,  but  from  its  being 
closely  joined  to  the  body,  from  which  it  receives  im- 
pressions; for  there  is  the  widest  difference  between 
these  passions  and  the  distinct  thoughts  which  we  have 
of  what  ought  to  be  loved,  or  chosen,  or  shunned,  etc. 
[although  these  are  often  enough  found  together].  The 
natural  appetites,  as  hunger,  thirst,  and  the  others,  are 
likewise  sensations  excited  in  the  mind  by  means  of  the 
nerves  of  the  stomach,  fauces,  and  other  parts,  and  are 
entirely  different  from  the  will  which  we  have  to  eat, 
drink  [and  to  do  all  that  which  we  think  proper  for  the 
conservation  of  our  body] ; but,  because  this  will  or  appe- 
tition  almost  always  accompanies  them,  the)’-  are  therefore 
named  appetites. 


35° 


THE  PRINCIPLES  OF  PHILOSOPHY 


CXCI.  Of  the  external  senses;  and  first  of  touch. 

We  commonly  reckon  the  external  senses  five  in  num- 
ber, because  there  are  as  many  different  kinds  of  objects 
which  move  the  nerves  and  their  organs,  and  an  equal 
number  of  kinds  of  confused  thoughts  excited  in  the  soul 
by  these  motions.  In  the  first  place,  the  nerves  termin- 
ating in  the  skin  of  the  whole  body  can  be  touched 
through  this  medium  by  any  terrene  objects  whatever, 
and  moved  by  these  wholes,  in  one  way  by  their  hard- 
ness, in  another  by  their  gravity,  in  a third  by  their  heat,  in 
in  a fourth  by  their  humidity,  etc., — and  in  as  many 
diverse  modes  as  they  are  either  moved  or  hindered 
from  their  ordinary  motion,  to  that  extent  are  diverse 
sensations  excited  in  the  mind,  from  which  a correspond- 
ing number  of  tactile  qualities  derive  their  appellations. 
Besides  this,  when  these  nerves  are  moved  a little  more 
powerfully  than  usual,  but  not,  nevertheless,  to  the  degree 
by  which  our  body  is  in  any  way  hurt,  there  thus  arises 
a sensation  of  titillation,  which  is  naturally  agreeable  to 
the  mind,  because  it  testifies  to  it  of  the  powers  of  the 
body  with  which  it  is  joined  [in  that  the  latter  can  suffer 
the  action  causing  this  titillation,  without  being  hurt].  But 
if  this  action  be  strong  enough  to  hurt  our  body  in  any 
way,  this  gives  to  our  mind  the  sensation  of  pain.  And 
we  thus  see  why  corporeal  pleasure  and  pain,  although 
sensations  of  quite  an  opposite  character,  arise,  neverthe- 
less, from  causes  nearly  alike. 

CXCII.  Of  taste. 

In  the  second  place,  the  other  nerves  scattered  over 
the  tongue  and  the  parts  in  its  vicinity  are  diversely 
moved  by  the  particles  of  the  same  bodies,  separated 
from  each  other  and  floating  in  the  saliva  in  the  mouth, 
and  thus  cause  sensations  of  diverse  tastes  according  to 
the  diversity  of  figure  in  these  particles.* 

CXCIII.  Of  smell. 

Thirdly,  two  nerves  also  or  appendages  of  the  brain, 
for  they  do  not  go  beyond  the  limits  of  the  skull,  are 
moved  by  the  particles  of  terrestrial  bodies,  separated 
and  flying  in  the  air,  not  indeed  by  all  particles  indiffer- 
ently, but  by  those  only  that  are  sufficiently  subtle  and 
penetrating  to  enter  the  pores  of  the  bone  we  call  the 

* In  the  French  this  section  begins,  <(Taste,  after  touch  the  grossest 
e£  the  senses, » etc. 


PART  IV 


35i 


spongy,  when  drawn  into  the  nostrils,  and  thus  to  reach 
the  nerves.  From  the  different  motions  of  these  particles 
arise  the  sensations  of  the  different  smells. 

CXCIV.  Of  hearing. 

Fourthly,  there  are  two  nerves  within  the  ears,  so 
attached  to  three  small  bones  that  are  mutually  sustain- 
ing, and  the  first  of  which  rests  on  the  small  membrane 
that  covers  the  cavity  we  call  the  tympanum  of  the  ear, 
that  all  the  diverse  vibrations  which  the  surrounding  air 
communicates  to  this  membrane,  are  transmitted  to  the 
mind  by  these  nerves,  and  those  vibrations  give  rise, 
according  to  their  diversity,  to  the  sensations  of  the 
different  sounds. 

CXCV.  Of  sight. 

Finally,  the  extremities  of  the  optic  nerves,  composing 
the  coat  in  the  eyes  called  the  retina,  are  not  moved  by 
the  air  nor  by  any  terrestrial  object,  but  only  by  the 
globules  of  the  second  element,  whence  we  have  the 
sense  of  light  and  colors:  as  I have  already  at  sufficient 
length  explained  in  the  Dioptrics  and  treatise  of 
Meteors.* 

CXCVI.  That  the  soul  perceives  only  in  so  far  as  it  is 
in  the  brain. 

It  is  clearly  established,  however,  that  the  soul  does  not 
perceive  in  so  far  as  it  is  in  each  member  of  the  body, 
but  only  in  so  far  as  it  is  in  the  brain,  where  the  nerves 
by  their  movements  convey  to  it  the  diverse  actions  of 
the  external  objects  that  touch  the  parts  of  the  body  in 
which  they  are  inserted.  For,  in  the  first  place,  there 
are  various  maladies,  which,  though  they  affect  the  brain 
alone,  yet  bring  disorder  upon,  or  deprive  us  altogether 
of  the  use  of,  our  senses,  just  as  sleep,  which  affects  the 
brain  only,  and  yet  takes  from  us  daily  during  a great 
part  of  our  time  the  faculty  of  perception  which  after- 
ward in  our  waking  state  is  restored  to  us.  The  second 
proof  is,  that  though  there  be  no  disease  in  the  brain, 
[ or  in  the  members  in  which  the  organs  of  the  external 
senses  are  ],  it  is  nevertheless  sufficient  to  take  away 
sensation  from  the  part  of  the  body  where  the  nerves 
terminate,  if  only  the  movement  of  one  of  the  nerves 
that  extend  from  the  brain  to  these  members  be  obstructed 

* In  the  French  this  section  begins,  « Finally,  sight  is  the  most 
subtle  of  all  the  senses,”  etc. 


352 


THE  PRINCIPLES  OF  PHILOSOPHY 


in  any  part  of  the  distance  that  is  between  the  two. 
And  the  last  proof  is,  that  we  sometimes  feel  pain  as  if 
in  certain  of  our  members,  the  cause  of  which,  however, 
is  not  in  these  members  where  it  is  felt,  but  somewhere 
nearer  the  brain,  through  which  the  nerves  pass  that  give 
to  the  mind  the  sensation  of  it.  I could  establish  this 
fact  by  innumerable  experiments;  I will  here,  however, 
merely  refer  to  one  of  them.  A girl  suffering  from  a 
bad  ulcer  in  the  hand,  had  her  eyes  bandaged  whenever 
the  surgeon  came  to  visit  her,  not  being  able  to  bear  the 
sight  of  the  dressing  of  the  sore;  and,  the  gangrene 
having  spread,  after  the  expiry  of  a few  days  the  arm 
was  amputated  from  the  elbow  [ without  the  girl’s  knowl- 
edge ] ; linen  cloths  tied  one  above  the  other  were  sub- 
stituted in  place  of  the  part  amputated,  so  that  she 
remained  for  some  time  without  knowing  that  the  opera- 
tion had  been  performed,  and  meanwhile  she  complained 
of  feeling  various  pains,  sometimes  in  one  finger  of  the 
hand  that  was  cut  off,  and  sometimes  in  another.  The 
only  explanation  of  this  is,  that  the  nerves  which  before 
stretched  downward  from  the  brain  to  the  hand,  and 
then  terminated  in  the  arm  close  to  the  elbow,  were  there 
moved  in  the  same  way  as  they  required  to  be  moved 
before  in  the  hand  for  the  purpose  of  impressing  on  the 
mind  residing  in  the  brain  the  sensation  of  pain  in  this 
or  that  finger.  [ And  this  clearly  shows  that  the  pain  of 
the  hand  is  not  felt  by  the  mind  in  so  far  as  it  is  in  the 
hand,  but  in  so  far  as  it  is  in  the  brain.] 

CXCVII.  That  the  nature  of  the  mind  is  such  that  from 
the  motion  alone  of  the  body  various  sensations  can  be 
excited  in  it. 

In  the  next  place,  it  can  be  proved  that  our  mind  is 
of  such  a nature  that  the  motions  of  the  body  alone  are 
sufficient  to  excite  in  it  all  sorts  of  thoughts,  without  it 
being  necessary  that  these  should  in  any  way  resemble 
the  motions  which  give  rise  to  them,  and  especially  that 
these  motions  can  excite  in  it  those  confused  thoughts 
called  sensations  ( sensus , sensationes).  For  we  see  that 
words  whether  uttered  by  the  voice  or  merely  written, 
excite  in  our  minds  all  kinds  of  thoughts  and  emotions. 
On  the  same  paper,  with  the  same  pen  and  ink,  by 
merely  moving  the  point  of  the  pen  over  the  paper  in  a 
particular  way,  we  can  trace  letters  that  will  raise  in  the 


PART  IV 


353 


minds  of  our  readers  the  thoughts  of  combats,  tempests, 
or  the  furies,  and  the  passions  of  indignation  and  sorrow; 
in  place  of  which,  if  the  pen  be  moved  in  another  way 
hardly  different  from  the  former,  this  slight  change  will 
cause  thoughts  widely  different  from  the  above,  such  as 
those  of  repose,  peace,  pleasantness,  and  the  quite  oppo- 
site passions  of  love  and  joy.  Some  one  will  perhaps 
object  that  writing  and  speech  do  not  immediately  excite 
in  the  mind  any  passions,  or  imaginations  of  things  dif- 
ferent from  the  letters  and  sounds,  but  afford  simply  the 
knowledge  of  these,  on  occasion  of  which  the  mind, 
understanding  the  signification  of  the  words,  afterward 
excites  in  itself  the  imaginations  and  passions  that  cor- 
respond to  the  words.  But  what  will  be  said  of  the  sen- 
sations of  pain  and  titillation  ? The  motion  merely  of  a 
sword  cutting  a part  of  our  skin  causes  pain  [but  does 
not  on  that  account  make  us  aware  of  the  motion  or 
figure  of  the  sword].  And  it  is  certain  that  this  sen- 
sation of  pain  is  not  less  different  from  the  motion  that 
causes  it,  or  from  that  of  the  part  of  our  body  which  the 
sword  cuts,  than  are  the  sensations  we  have  of  color, 
sound,  odor,  or  taste.  On  this  ground  we  may  conclude 
that  our  mind  is  of  such  a nature  that  the  motions  alone 
of  certain  bodies  can  also  easily  excite  in  it  all  the  other 
sensations,  as  the  motion  of  a sword  excites  in  it  the 
sensation  of  pain. 

CXCVIII.  That  by  our  senses  we  know  nothing  of 
external  objects  beyond  their  figure  [or  situation ],  mag- 
nitude, and  motion. 

Besides,  we  observe  no  such  difference  between  the 
nerves  as  to  lead  us  to  judge  that  one  set  of  them  con- 
vey to  the  brain  from  the  organs  of  the  external  senses 
anything  different  from  another,  or  that  anything  at  all 
reaches  the  brain  besides  the  local  motion  of  the  nerves 
themselves.  And  we  see  that  local  motion  alone  causes 
in  us  not  only  the  sensation  of  titillation  and  of  pain, 
but  also  of  light  and  sounds.  For  if  we  receive  a blow 
on  the  eye  of  sufficient  force  to  cause  the  vibration  of 
the  stroke  to  reach  the  retina,  we  see  numerous  sparks 
of  fire,  which,  nevertheless,  are  not  out  of  our  eye;  and 
when  we  stop  our  ear  with  our  finger,  we  hear  a hum- 
ming sound,  the  cause  of  which  can  only  proceed  from 
the  agitation  of  the  air  that  is  shut  up  within  it.  Fin- 
23 


354 


THE  PRINCIPLES  OF  PHILOSOPHY 


ally,  we  frequently  observe  that  heat  [hardness,  weight], 
and  the  other  sensible  qualities,  as  far  as  they  are  in  ob- 
jects, and  also  the  forms  of  those  bodies  that  are  purely 
material,  as,  for  example,  the  forms  of  fire,  are  produced 
in  them  by  the  motion  of  certain  other  bodies,  and  that 
these  in  their  turn  likewise  produce  other  motions  in 
other  bodies.  And  we  can  easily  conceive  how  the  motion 
of  one  body  may  be  caused  by  that  of  another,  and 
diversified  by  the  size,  figure,  and  situation  of  its  parts, 
but  we  are  wholly  unable  to  conceive  how  these  same 
things  (viz,  size,  figure,  and  motion),  can  produce  some- 
thing else  of  a nature  entirely  different  from  themselves, 
as,  for  example,  those  substantial  forms  and  real  quali- 
ties which  many  philosophers  suppose  to  be  in  bodies; 
nor  likewise  can  we  conceive  how  these  qualities  or  forms 
possess  force  to  cause  motions  in  other  bodies.  But  since 
we  know,  from  the  nature  of  our  soul,  that  the  diverse 
motions  of  body  are  sufficient  to  produce  in  it  all  the 
sensations  which  it  has,  and  since  we  learn  from  experi- 
ence that  several  of  its  sensations  are  in  reality  caused 
by  such  motions,  while  we  do  not  discover  that  anything 
besides  these  motions  ever  passes  from  the  organs  of 
the  external  senses  to  the  brain,  we  have  reason  to  con- 
clude that  we  in  no  way  likewise  apprehend  that  in 
external  objects,  which  we  call  light,  color,  smell,  taste, 
sound,  heat  or  cold,  and  the  other  tactile  qualities,  or  that 
which  we  call  their  substantial  forms,  unless  as  the  vari- 
ous dispositions  of  these  objects  which  have  the  power  of 
moving  our  nerves  in  various  ways.* 

CXCIX.  That  there  is  no  phenomenon  of  nature  whose 
explanation  has  been  omitted  in  this  treatise. 

And  thus  it  may  be  gathered,  from  an  enumeration 
that  is  easily  made,  that  there  is  no  phenomenon  of 
nature  whose  explanation  has  been  omitted  in  this  treatise; 
for  beyond  what  is  perceived  by  the  senses,  there  is 
nothing  that  can  be  considered  a phenomenon  of  nature. 
But  leaving  out  of  account,  motion,  magnitude,  figure  [ and 
the  situation  of  the  parts  of  each  body],  which  I have 
explained  as  they  exist  in  body,  we  perceive  nothing  out 
of  us  by  our  senses  except  light,  colors,  smells,  tastes, 
sounds,  and  the  tactile  qualities;  and  these  I have  recently 

* (<  The  diverse  figures,  situations  magnitudes,  and  motions  of  their 
parts. » — French. 


PART  IV 


355 


shown  to  be  nothing  more,  at  least  so  far  as  they  are 
known  to  us,  than  certain  dispositions  of  the  objects, 
consisting  in  magnitude,  figure,  and  motion. 

CC.  That  this  treatise  contains  no  principles  which  are 
not  universally  received;  and  that  this  philosophy  is  not 
new,  but  of  all  others  the  most  ancient  and  common. 

But  I am  desirous  also  that  it  should  be  observed  that, 
though  I have  here  endeavored  to  give  an  explanation  of 
the  whole  nature  of  material  things,  I have  nevertheless 
made  use  of  no  principle  which  was  not  received  and 
approved  by  Aristotle,  and  by  the  other  philosophers  of 
all  ages;  so  that  this  philosophy,  so  far  from  being  new, 
is  of  all  others  the  most  ancient  and  common:  for  I have 
in  truth  merely  considered  the  figure,  motion,  and  mag- 
nitude of  bodies,  and  examined  what  must  follow  from 
their  mutual  concourse  on  the  principles  of  mechanics, 
which  are  confirmed  by  certain  and  daily  experience. 
But  no  one  ever  doubted  that  bodies  are  moved,  and 
that  they  are  of  various  sizes  and  figures,  according  to 
the  diversity  of  which  their  motions  also  vary,  and  that 
from  mutual  collision  those  somewhat  greater  than  others 
are  divided  into  many  smaller,  and  thus  change  figure. 
We  have  experience  of  the  truth  of  this,  not  merely  by 
a single  sense,  but  by  several,  as  touch,  sight,  and  hear- 
ing: we  also  distinctly  imagine  and  understand  it.  This 
cannot  be  said  of  any  of  the  other  things  that  fall  under 
our  senses,  as  colors,  sounds,  and  the  like;  for  each  of 
these  affects  but  one  of  our  senses,  and  merely  impresses 
upon  our  imagination  a confused  image  of  itself,  afford- 
ing our  understanding  no  distinct  knowledge  of  what  it  is. 

CCI.  That  sensible  bodies  are  composed  of  insensible 
particles. 

But  I allow  many  particles  in  each  body  that  are  per- 
ceived by  none  of  our  senses,  and  this  will  not  perhaps 
be  approved  of  by  those  who  take  the  senses  for  the 
measure  of  the  knowable.  [We  greatly  wrong  human 
reason,  however,  as  appears  to  me,  if  we  suppose  that 
it  does  not  go  beyond  the  eyesight  ] ; for  no  one  can 
doubt  that  there  are  bodies  so  small  as  not  to  be  per- 
ceptible by  any  of  our  senses,  provided  he  only  consider 
what  is  each  moment  added  to  those  bodies  that  are  being 
increased  little  by  little,  and  what  is  taken  from  those 
that  are  diminished  in  the  same  way.  A tree  increases 


356 


THE  PRINCIPLES  OF  PHILOSOPHY 


daily,  and  it  is  impossible  to  conceive  how  it  becomes 
greater  than  it  was  before,  unless  we  at  the  same  time 
conceive  that  some  body  is  added  to  it.  But  who  ever 
observed  by  the  senses  those  small  bodies  that  are  in 
one  day  added  to  a tree  while  growing  ? Among  the 
philosophers  at  least,  those  who  hold  that  quantity  is 
indefinitely  divisible,  ought  to  admit  that  in  the  division 
the  parts  may  become  so  small  as  to  be  wholly  imper- 
ceptible. And  indeed  it  ought  not  to  be  a matter  of 
surprise,  that  we  are  unable  to  perceive  very  minute 
bodies;  for  the  nerves  that  must  be  moved  by  objects  to 
cause  perception  are  not  themselves  very  minute,  but  are 
like  small  cords,  being  composed  of  a quantity  of  smaller 
fibers,  and  thus  the  most  minute  bodies  are  not  capable 
of  moving  them.  Nor  do  I think  that  any  one  who  makes 
use  of  his  reason  will  deny  that  we  philosophize  with 
much  greater  truth  when  we  judge  of  what  takes  place 
in  those  small  bodies  which  are  imperceptible  from  their 
minuteness  only,  after  the  analogy  of  what  we  see  occur- 
ring in  those  we  do  perceive  [and  in  this  way  explain 
all  that  is  in  nature,  as  I have  essayed  to  do  in  this 
treatise  ],  than  when  we  give  an  explanation  of  the  same 
things  by  inventing  I know  not  what  novelties,  that  have 
no  relation  to  the  things  we  actually  perceive  [as  first 
matter,  substantial  forms,  and  all  that  grand  array  of 
qualities  which  many  are  in  the  habit  of  supposing,  each 
of  which  it  is  more  difficult  to  comprehend  than  all  that 
is  professed  to  be  explained  by  means  of  them], 

CCII.  That  the  philosophy  of  Democritus  is  not  less 
different  from  ours  than  from  the  common.* 

But  it  may  be  said  that  Democritus  also  supposed  cer- 
tain corpuscles  that  were  of  various  figures,  sizes,  and 
motions,  from  the  heaping  together  and  mutual  concourse 
of  which  all  sensible  bodies  arose;  and,  nevertheless,  his 
mode  of  philosophizing  is  commonly  rejected  by  all.  To 
this  I reply  that  the  philosophy  of  Democritus  was  never 
rejected  by  any  one,  because  he  allowed  the  existence  of 
bodies  smaller  than  those  we  perceive,  and  attributed  to 
them  diverse  sizes,  figures,  and  motions,  for  no  one  can 
doubt  that  there  are  in  reality  such,  as  we  have  already 
shown;  but  it  was  rejected  in  the  first  place,  because  he 
supposed  that  these  corpuscles  were  indivisible,  on  which 
• * That  of  Aristotle  or  the  others.  » — French. 


PART  IV 


357 


ground  I also  reject  it;  in  the  second  place,  because  he 
imagined  there  was  a vacuum  about  them,  which  I show 
to  be  impossible;  thirdly,  because  he  attributed  gravity 
to  these  bodies,  of  which  I deny  the  existence  in  any 
body,  in  so  far  as  a body  is  considered  by  itself,  because 
it  is  a quality  that  depends  on  the  relations  of  situation 
and  motion  which  several  bodies  bear  to  each  other ; and, 
finally,  because  he  has  not  explained  in  particular  how 
all  things  arose  from  the  concourse  of  corpuscles  alone, 
or,  if  he  gave  this  explanation  with  regard  to  a few  of 
them,  his  whole  reasoning  was  far  from  being  coherent 
[or  such  as  would  warrant  us  in  extending  the  same  ex- 
planation to  the  whole  of  nature].  This,  at  least,  is  the 
verdict  we  must  give  regarding  his  philosophy,  if  we 
may  judge  of  his  opinions  from  what  has  been  handed 
down  to  us  in  writing.  I leave  it  to  others  to  determine 
whether  the  philosophy  I profess  possesses  a valid  co- 
herency [and  whether  on  its  principles  we  can  make  the 
requisite  number  of  deductions;  and,  inasmuch  as  the 
consideration  of  figure,  magnitude,  and  motion  has  been 
admitted  by  Aristotle  and  by  all  the  others,  as  well  as 
by  Democritus,  and  since  I reject  all  that  the  latter  has 
supposed,  with  this  single  exception,  while  I reject  gen- 
erally all  that  has  been  supposed  by  the  others,  it  is 
plain  that  this  mode  of  philosophizing  has  no  more 
affinity  with  that  of  Democritus  than  of  any  other  par- 
ticular sect], 

CCIII.  How  we  may  arrive  at  the  knowledge  of  the 
figures  [magnitude],  and  motions  of  the  insensible  par- 
ticles of  bodies. 

But,  since  I assign  determinate  figures,  magnitudes, 
and  motions  to  the  insensible  particles  of  bodies,  as  if  I 
had  seen  them,  whereas  I admit  that  they  do  not  fall 
under  the  senses,  some  one  will  perhaps  demand  how  I 
have  come  by  my  knowledge  of  them.  [ To  this  I reply, 
that  I first  considered  in  general  all  the  clear  and  distinct 
notions  of  material  things  that  are  to  be  found  in  our 
understanding,  and  that,  finding  no  others  except  those 
of  figures,  magnitudes,  and  motions,  and  of  the  rules 
according  to  which  these  three  things  can  be  diversified 
by  each  other,  which  rules  are  the  principles  of  geometry 
and  mechanics,  I judged  that  all  the  knowledge  man  can 
have  of  nature  must  of  necessity  be  drawn  from  this 


358 


THE  PRINCIPLES  OF  PHILOSOPHY 


source;  because  all  the  other  notions  we  have  of  sensible 
things,  as  confused  and  obscure,  can  be  of  no  avail  ir. 
affording  us  the  knowledge  of  anything  out  of  ourselves, 
but  must  serve  rather  to  impede  it.]  Thereupon,  taking 
as  my  ground  of  inference  the  simplest  and  best  known 
of  the  principles  that  have  been  implanted  in  our  minds 
by  nature,  I considered  the  chief  differences  that  could 
possibly  subsist  between  the  magnitudes,  and  figures, 
and  situations  of  bodies  insensible  on  account  of  their 
smallness  alone,  and  what  sensible  effects  could  be  pro- 
duced by  their  various  modes  of  coming  into  contact; 
and  afterward,  when  I found  like  effects  in  the  bodies 
that  we  perceive  by  our  senses,  I judged  that  they  could 
have  been  thus  produced,  especially  since  no  other  mode 
of  explaining  them  could  be  devised.  And  in  this 
matter  the  example  of  several  bodies  made  by  art  was 
of  great  service  to  me:  for  I recognize  no  difference 
between  these  and  natural  bodies  beyond  this,  that  the 
effects  of  machines  depend  for  the  most  part  on  the  agency 
of  certain  instruments,  which,  as  they  must  bear  some  pro- 
portion to  the  hands  of  those  who  make  them,  are  always 
so  large  that  their  figures  and  motions  can  be  seen;  in 
place  of  which,  the  effects  of  natural  bodies  almost  always 
depend  upon  certain  organs  so  minute  as  to  escape  our 
senses.  And  it  is  certain  that  all  the  rules  of  mechanics 
belong  also  to  physics,  of  which  it  is  a part  or  species 
[ so  that  all  that  is  artificial  is  withal  natural  ] : for  it  is 
not  less  natural  for  a clock,  made  of  the  requisite  num- 
ber of  wheels,  to  mark  the  hours,  than  for  a tree,  which 
has  sprung  from  this  or  that  seed,  to  produce  the  fruit 
peculiar  to  it.  Accordingly,  just  as  those  who  are  familar 
with  automata,  when  they  are  informed  of  the  use  of  a 
machine,  and  see  some  of  its  parts,  easily  infer  from  these 
the  way  in  which  the  others,  that  are  not  seen  by  them, 
are  made;  so  from  considering  the  sensible  effects  and 
parts  of  natural  bodies,  I have  essayed  to  determine  the 
character  of  their  causes  and  insensible  parts. 

CCIV.  That,  touching  the  things  which  our  senses  do 
not  perceive,  it  is  sufficient  to  explain  how  they  can  be 
[and  that  this  is  all  that  Aristotle  has  essayed]. 

But  here  some  one  will  perhaps  reply,  that  although  I 
have  supposed  causes  which  could  produce  all  natural 
objects,  we  ought  not  on  this  account  to  conclude  that 


FART  IV 


359 


they  were  produced  by  these  causes;  for,  just  as  the 
same  artisan  can  make  two  clocks,  which,  though  they 
both  equally  well  indicate  the  time,  and  are  not  different 
in  outward  appearance,  have  nevertheless  nothing 
resembling  in  the  composition  of  their  wheels ; so  doubt- 
less the  Supreme  Maker  of  things  has  an  infinity  of 
diverse  means  at  his  disposal,  by  each  of  which  he 
could  have  made  all  the  things  of  this  world  to  appear 
as  we  see  them,  without  it  being  possible  for  the  human 
mind  to  know  which  of  all  these  means  he  chose  to 
employ.  I most  freely  concede  this;  and  I believe  that 
I have  done  all  that  was  required,  if  the  causes  I have 
assigned  are  such  that  their  effects  accurately  correspond 
to  all  the  phenomena  of  nature,  without  determining 
whether  it  is  by  these  or  by  others  that  they  are  actually 
produced.  And  it  will  be  sufficient  for  the  use  of  life 
to  know  the  causes  thus  imagined,  for  medicine, 
mechanics,  and  in  general  all  the  arts  to  which  the  knowl- 
edge of  physics  is  of  service,  have  for  their  end  only 
those  effects  that  are  sensible,  and  that  are  accordingly 
to  be  reckoned  among  the  phenomena  of  nature.*  And 
lest  it  should  be  supposed  that  Aristotle  did,  or  pro- 
fessed to  do,  anything  more  than  this,  it  ought  to  be 
remembered  that  he  himself  expressly  says,  at  the  com- 
mencement of  the  seventh  chapter  of  the  first  book  of 
the  Meteorologies,  that,  with  regard  to  things  which  are 
not  manifest  to  the  senses,  he  thinks  to  adduce  sufficient 
reasons  and  demonstrations  of  them,  if  he  only  shows 
that  they  may  be  such  as  he  explains  them. 

CCV.  That  nevertheless  there  is  a moral  certainty  that 
all  the  things  of  this  world  are  such  as  has  been  here 
shown  they  may  be. 

But  nevertheless,  that  I may  not  wrong  the  truth  by 
supposing  it  less  certain  than  it  is,  I will  here  distin- 
guish two  kinds  of  certitude.  The  first  is  called  moral, 
that  is,  a certainty  sufficient  for  the  conduct  of  life, 
though,  if  we  look  to  the  absolute  power  of  God,  what 

* (<Have  for  their  end  only  to  apply  certain  sensible  bodies  to  each 
other  in  such  a way  that,  in  the  course  of  natural  causes,  certain 
sensible  effects  may  be  produced;  and  we  will  be  able  to  accom- 
plish this  quite  as  well  by  considering  the  series  of  certain  causes 
thus  imagined,  although  false,  as  if  they  were  the  true,  since 
this  series  is  supposed  similar  as  far  as  regards  sensible  effects.® 
— French. 


360 


THE  PRINCIPLES  OF  PHILOSOPHY 


is  morally  certain  may  be  false.  [Thus,  those  who  never 
visited  Rome  do  not  doubt  that  it  is  a city  of  Italy, 
though  it  might  be  that  all  from  whom  they  got  their 
information  were  deceived.]  Again,  if  any  one,  wishing 
to  decipher  a letter  written  in  Latin  characters  that  are 
not  placed  in  regular  order,  bethinks  himself  of  reading 
a B wherever  an  A is  found,  and  a C wherever  there  is 
a B,  and  thus  of  substituting  in  place  of  each  letter  the 
one  which  follows  it  in  the  order  of  the  alphabet,  and 
if  by  this  means  he  finds  that  there  are  certain  Latin 
words  composed  of  these,  he  will  not  doubt  that  the  true 
meaning  of  the  writing  is  contained  in  these  words, 
although  he  may  discover  this  only  by  conjecture,  and 
although  it  is  possible  that  the  writer  of  it  did  not  arrange 
the  letters  on  this  principle  of  alphabetical  order,  but  on 
some  other,  and  thus  concealed  another  meaning  in  it: 
for  this  is  so  improbable  [especially  when  the  cipher  con- 
tains a number  of  words]  as  to  seem  incredible.  But 
they  who  observe  how  many  things  regarding  the  mag- 
net, fire,  and  the  fabric  of  the  whole  world,  are  here 
deduced  from  a very  small  number  of  principles,  though 
they  deemed  that  I had  taken  them  up  at  random  and 
without  grounds,  will  yet  perhaps  acknowledge  that  it 
could  hardly  happen  that  so  many  things  should  cohere 
if  these  principles  were  false. 

CCVI.  That  we  possess  even  more  than  a moral  cer- 
tainty of  it. 

Besides,  there  are  some,  even  among  natural,  things 
which  we  judge  to  be  absolutely  certain.  [Absolute  cer- 
tainty arises  when  we  judge  that  it  is  impossible  a thing 
can  be  otherwise  than  as  we  think  it.  ] This  certainty  is 
founded  on  the  metaphysical  ground,  that,  as  God  is 
supremely  good  and  the  source  of  all  truth,  the  faculty 
of  distinguishing  truth  from  error  which  he  gave  us, 
cannot  be  fallacious  so  long  as  we  use  it  aright,  and  dis- 
tinctly perceive  anything  by  it.  Of  this  character  are  the 
demonstrations  of  mathematics,  the  knowledge  that  ma- 
terial things  exist,  and  the  clear  reasonings  that  are 
formed  regarding  them.  The  results  I have  given  in  this 
treatise  will  perhaps  be  admitted  to  a place  in  the  class 
of  truths  that  are  absolutely  certain,  if  it  be  considered 
that  they  are  deduced  in  a continuous  series  from  the  first 
and  most  elementary  principles  of  human  knowledge; 


PART  IV 


361 

especially  if  it  be  sufficiently  understood  that  we  can  per- 
ceive no  external  objects  unless  some  local  motion  be 
caused  by  them  in  our  nerves,  and  that  such  motion  cannot 
be  caused  by  the  fixed  stars,  owing  to  their  great  distance 
from  us,  unless  a motion  be  also  produced  in  them  and  in 
the  whole  heavens  lying  between  them  and  us:  for  these 
points  being  admitted,  all  the  others,  at  least  the  more 
general  doctrines  which  I have  advanced  regarding  the 
world  or  earth  [ e . g.,  the  fluidity  of  the  heavens,  Part 
III.,  §.  XLVI.],  will  appear  to  be  almost  the  only  possible 
explanations  of  the  phenomena  they  present. 

CCVII.  That,  however,  I submit  all  my  opinions  to  the 
authority  of  the  church. 

Nevertheless,  lest  I should  presume  too  far,  I affirm 
nothing,  but  submit  all  these  my  opinions  to  the  authority 
of  the  church  and  the  judgment  of  the  more  sage ; and  I 
desire  no  one  to  believe  anything  I may  have  said,  unless 
he  is  constrained  to  admit  it  by  the  force  and  evidence 
of  reason. 


APPENDIX. 


REASONS  WHICH  ESTABLISH  THE  EXISTENCE 
OF  GOD,  AND  THE  DISTINCTION  BE- 
TWEEN THE  MIND  AND  BODY  OF 
MAN,  DISPOSED  IN  GEOMET- 
RICAL ORDER. 


(from  THE  REPLY  TO  THE  SECOND  OBJECTIONS LATIN,  1670. 

PP.  85-91.  FRENCH,  GARNIER.  TOM.  II.,  PP.  74-84.) 

Definitions. 

I.  By  the  term  thought  (cogitatio,  pens<?e),  I compre- 
hend all  that  is  in  us,  so  that  we  are  immediately 
conscious  of  it.  Thus,  all  the  operations  of  the  will, 
intellect,  imagination,  and  senses,  are  thoughts.  But  I 
have  used  the  word  immediately  expressly  to  exclude 
whatever  follows  or  depends  upon  our  thoughts:  for  ex- 
ample, voluntary  motion  has,  in  truth,  thought  for  its 
source  (principle),  but  yet  it  is  not  itself  thought.  [Thus 
walking  is  not  a thought,  but  the  perception  or  knowl- 
edge we  have  of  our  walking  is.] 

II.  By  the  word  idea  I understand  that  form  of  any 
thought,  by  the  immediate  perception  of  which  I am 
conscious  of  that  same  thought;  so  that  I can  express 
nothing  in  words,  when  I understand  what  I say,  without 
making  it  certain,  by  this  alone,  that  I possess  the  idea 
of  the  thing  that  is  signified  by  these  words.  And  thus 
I give  the  appellation  idea  not  to  the  images  alone  that 
are  depicted  in  the  phantasy;  on  the  contrary,  I do  not 
here  apply  this  name  to  them,  in  so  far  as  they  are  in 
the  corporeal  phantasy,  that  is  to  say,  in  so  far  as  they 
are  depicted  in  certain  parts  of  the  brain,  but  only  in  so 
far  as  they  inform  the  mind  itself,  when  turned  toward 
that  part  of  the  brain. 


(363) 


364 


APPENDIX 


III.  By  the  objective  reality  of  an  idea  I under- 
stand the  entity  or  being  of  the  thing  represented  by 
the  idea,  in  so  far  as  this  entity  is  in  the  idea;  and,  in 
the  same  manner,  it  may  be  called  either  an  objective 
perfection,  or  objective  artifice,  etc.  ( artificium  objectivuni). 
For  all  that  we  conceive  to  be  in  the  objects  of  the 
ideas  is  objectively  [or  by  representation]  in  the  ideas 
themselves. 

IV.  The  same  things  are  said  to  be  formally  in  the 
objects  of  the  ideas  when  they  are  in  them  such  as  we 
conceive  them;  and  they  are  said  to  be  in  the  objects 
eminently  when  they  are  not  indeed  such  as  we  conceive 
them,  but  are  so  great  that  they  can  supply  this  defect 
by  their  excellence. 

V.  Everything  in  which  there  immediately  resides,  as 
in  a subject,  or  by  which  there  exists  any  object  we  per- 
ceive, that  is,  any  property,  or  quality,  or  attribute  of 
which  we  have  in  us  a real  idea,  is  called  substance. 
For  we  have  no  other  idea  of  substance,  accurately  taken, 
except  that  it  is  a thing  in  which  exists  formally  or  emi- 
nently this  property  or  quality  which  we  perceive,  or 
which  is  objectively  in  some  one  of  our  ideas,  since  we 
are  taught  by  the  natural  light  that  nothing  can  have  no 
real  attribute. 

VI.  The  substance  in  which  thought  immediately  re- 
sides is  here  called  mind  (; mens , esprit ).  I here  speak, 
however,  of  mens  rather  than  of  anima , for  the  latter  is 
equivocal,  being  frequently  applied  to  denote  a corporeal 
object. 

VII.  The  substance  which  is  the  immediate  subject  of 
local  extension,  and  of  the  accidents  that  presuppose  this 
extension,  as  figure,  situation,  local  motion,  etc.,  is  called 
body.  But  whether  the  substance  which  is  called  mind 
be  the  same  with  that  which  is  called  body,  or  whether 
they  are  two  diverse  substances,  is  a question  to  be 
hereafter  considered. 

VIII.  The  substance  which  we  understand  to  be  su- 
premely perfect,  and  in  which  we  conceive  nothing  that 
involves  any  defect,  or  limitation  of  perfection,  is  called  God. 

IX.  When  we  say  that  some  attribute  is  contained  in 
the  nature  or  concept  of  a thing,  this  is  the  same  as  if 
we  said  that  the  attribute  is  true  of  the  thing,  or  that  it 
may  be  affirmed  of  the  thing  itself. 


ON  THE  EXISTENCE  OF  GOD  365 

X.  Two  substances  are  said  to  be  really  distinct,  when 
each  of  them  may  exist  without  the  other. 

Postulates. 

1st.  I request  that  my  readers  consider  how  feeble  are 
the  reasons  that  have  hitherto  led  them  to  repose  faith 
in  their  senses,  and  how  uncertain  are  all  the  judgments 
which  they  afterward  founded  on  them;  and  that  they 
will  revolve  this  consideration  in  their  mind  so  long  and 
so  frequently,  that,  in  fine,  they  may  acquire  the  habit 
of  no  longer  trusting  so  confidently  in  their  senses;  for 
I hold  that  this  is  necessary  to  render  one  capable  of 
apprehending  metaphysical  truths. 

2d.  That  they  consider  their  own  mind,  and  all  those 
of  its  attributes  of  which  they  shall  find  they  cannot 
doubt,  though  they  may  have  supposed  that  all  they  ever 
received  by  the  senses  was  entirely  false,  and  that  they 
do  not  leave  off  considering  it  until  they  have  acquired 
the  habit  of  conceiving  it  distinctly,  and  of  believing 
that  it  is  more  easy  to  know  than  any  corporeal  object. 

3d.  That  they  diligently  examine  such  propositions  as 
are  self-evident,  which  they  will  find  within  themselves, 
as  the  following:  That  the  same  thing  cannot  at  once 

be  and  not  be ; that  nothing  cannot  be  the  efficient  cause 
of  anything,  and  the  like;  and  thus  exercise  that  clear- 
ness of  understanding  that  has  been  given  them  by  na- 
ture, but  which  the  perceptions  of  the  senses  are  wont 
greatly  to  disturb  and  obscure  — exercise  it,  I say,  pure 
and  delivered  from  the  objects  of  sense;  for  in  this  way 
the  truth  of  the  following  axioms  will  appear  very  evi- 
dent to  them. 

4th.  That  they  examine  the  ideas  of  those  natures 
which  contain  in  them  an  assemblage  of  several  attri- 
butes, such  as  the  nature  of  the  triangle,  that  of  the 
square,  or  some  other  figure ; as  also  the  nature  of 
mind,  the  nature  of  body,  and  above  all  that  of  God,  or 
of  a being  supremely  perfect.  And  I request  them  to 
observe  that  it  may  with  truth  be  affirmed  that  all  these 
things  are  in  objects,  which  we  clearly  conceive  to  be 
contained  in  them : for  example,  because  that,  in  the  na- 
ture of  the  rectilineal  triangle,  this  property  is  found 
contained  — viz.,  that  its  three  angles  are  equal  to  two 
right  angles,  and  that  in  the  nature  of  body  or  of  an 


366 


APPENDIX 


extended  thing,  divisibility  is  comprised  (for  we  do  not 
conceive  any  extended  thing  so  small  that  we  cannot  di- 
vide it,  at  least  in  thought) — it  is  true  that  the  three 
angles  of  a rectilineal  triangle  are  equal  to  two  right 
angles,  and  that  all  body  is  divisible. 

5th.  That  they  dwell  much  and  long  on  the  contem- 
plation of  the  supremely  perfect  Being,  and,  among  other 
things,  consider  that  in  the  ideas  of  all  other  natures, 
possible  existence  is  indeed  contained,  but  that  in  the 
idea  of  God  is  contained  not  only  possible  but  absolutely 
necessary  existence.  For,  from  this  alone,  and  without 
any  reasoning,  they  will  discover  that  God  exists : and  it 
will  be  no  less  evident  in  itself  than  that  two  is  an  equal 
and  three  an  unequal  number,  with  other  truths  of  this 
sort.  For  there  are  certain  truths  that  are  thus  mani- 
fest to  some  without  proof,  which  are  not  comprehended 
by  others  without  a process  of  reasoning. 

6th.  That  carefully  considering  all  the  examples  of 
clear  and  distinct  perception,  and  all  of  obscure  and  con- 
fused, of  which  I spoke  in  my  Meditations,  they  accus- 
tom themselves  to  distinguish  things  that  are  clearly 
known  from  those  that  are  obscure,  for  this  is  better 
learned  by  example  than  by  rules;  and  I think  that  I have 
there  opened  up,  or  at  least  in  some  degree  touched 
upon,  all  examples  of  this  kind. 

7th.  That  readers  adverting  to  the  circumstance  that 
they  never  discovered  any  falsity  in  things  which  they 
clearly  conceived,  and  that,  on  the  contrary,  they  never 
found,  unless  by  chance,  any  truth  in  things  which  they 
conceived  but  obscurely,  consider  it  to  be  wholly  ir- 
rational, if  on  account  only  of  certain  prejudices  of  the 
senses,  or  hypotheses  which  contain  what  is  unknown, 
they  call  in  doubt  what  is  clearly  and  distinctly  conceived 
by  the  pure  understanding;  for  they  will  thus  readily 
admit  the  following  axioms  to  be  true  and  indubitable, 
though  I confess  that  several  of  them  might  have  been 
much  better  unfolded,  and  ought  rather  to  have  been 
proposed  as  theorems  than  as  axioms,  if  I had  desired 
to  be  more  exact. 

Axioms  or  Common  Notions. 

I.  Nothing  exists  of  which  it  cannot  be  inquired  what 
is  the  cause  of  its  existing;  for  this  can  even  be  asked 


ON  THE  EXISTENCE  OF  GOD 


367 


respecting  God;  not  that  there  is  need  of  any  cause  in 
order  to  his  existence,  but  because  the  very  immensity 
of  his  nature  is  the  cause  or  reason  why  there  is  no  need 
of  any  cause  of  his  existence. 

II.  The  present  time  is  not  dependent  on  that  which 
immediately  preceded  it;  for  this  reason,  there  is  not 
need  of  a less  cause  for  conserving  a thing  than  for  at 
first  producing  it. 

III.  Any  thing  or  any  perfection  of  a thing  actually  ex- 
istent cannot  have  nothing,  or  a thing  non-existent,  for 
the  cause  of  its  existence. 

IV.  All  the  reality  or  perfection  which  is  in  a thing  is 
found  formally  or  eminently  in  its  first  and  total  cause. 

V.  Whence  it  follows  likewise,  that  the  objective  real- 
ity of  our  ideas  requires  a cause  in  which  this  same 
reality  is  contained,  not  simply  objectively,  but  formally 
or  eminently.  And  it  is  to  be  observed  that  this  axiom 
must  of  necessity  be  admitted,  as  upon  it  alone  depends 
the  knowledge  of  all  things,  whether  sensible  or  insensi- 
ble. For  whence  do  we  know,  for  example,  that  the  sky 
exists  ? Is  it  because  we  see  it  ? But  this  vision  does 
not  affect  the  mind  unless  in  so  far  as  it  is  an  idea,  and 
an  idea  inhering  in  the  mind  itself,  and  not  an  image 
depicted  on  the  phantasy;  and,  by  reason  of  this  idea, 
we  cannot  judge  that  the  sky  exists  unless  we  suppose 
that  every  idea  must  have  a cause  of  its  objective  reality 
which  is  really  existent;  and  this  cause  we  judge  to  be 
the  sky  itself,  and  so  in  the  other  instances. 

VI.  There  are  diverse  degrees  of  reality,  that  is,  of 
entity  [or  perfection] : for  substance  has  more  reality  than 
accident  or  mode,  and  infinite  substance  than  finite ; it  is 
for  this  reason  also  that  there  is  more  objective  reality 
in  the  idea  of  substance  than  in  that  of  accident,  and 
in  the  idea  of  infinite  than  in  the  idea  of  finite  substance. 

VII.  The  will  of  a thinking  being  is  carried  volunta- 
rily and  freely,  for  that  is  of  the  essence  of  will,  but 
nevertheless  infallibly,  to  the  good  that  is  clearly  known 
to  it;  and,  therefore,  if  it  discover  any  perfections  which 
it  does  not  possess,  it  will  instantly  confer  them  on  itself 
if  they  are  in  its  power;  [for  it  will  perceive  that  to 
possess  them  is  a greater  good  than  to  want  them]. 

VIII.  That  which  can  accomplish  the  greater  or  more 
difficult,  can  also  accomplish  the  less  or  the  more  easy. 


368 


APPENDIX 


IX.  It  is  a greater  and  more  difficult  thing  to  create 
or  conserve  a substance  than  to  create  or  conserve  its 
attributes  or  properties;  but  this  creation  of  a thing  is 
not  greater  or  more  difficult  than  its  conservation,  as  has 
been  already  said. 

X.  In  the  idea  or  concept  of  a thing  existence  is  con- 
tained, because  we  are  unable  to  conceive  anything  unless 
under  the  form  of  a thing  which  exists;  but  with  this 
difference  that,  in  the  concept  of  a limited  thing,  possi- 
ble or  contingent  existence  is  alone  contained,  and  in  the 
concept  of  a being  sovereignly  perfect,  perfect  and  neces- 
sary existence  is  comprised. 

Proposition  I. 

The  existence  of  God  is  known  from  the  consideration 
of  his  nature  alone. 


DEMONSTRATION. 

To  say  that  an  attribute  is  contained  in  the  nature  or 
in  the  concept  of  a thing,  is  the  same  as  to  say  that  this 
attribute  is  true  of  this  thing,  and  that  it  may  be  affirmed 
to  be  in  it  (Definition  IX.). 

But  necessary  existence  is  contained  in  the  nature  or 
in  the  concept  of  God  (by  Axiom  X.). 

Hence  it  may  with  truth  be  said  that  necessary  exist- 
ence is  in  God,  or  that  God  exists. 

And  this  syllogism  is  the  same  as  that  of  which  I made 
use  in  my  reply  to  the  sixth  article  of  these  objections; 
and  its  conclusion  may  be  known  without  proof  by  those 
who  are  free  from  all  prejudice,  as  has  been  said  in 
Postulate  V.  But  because  it  is  not  so  easy  to  reach  so 
great  perspicacity  of  mind,  we  shall  essay  to  establish 
the  same  thing  by  other  modes 

Proposition  II. 

The  existence  of  God  is  demonstrated  a posteriori , from 
this  alone,  that  his  idea  is  in  us. 

DEMONSTRATION. 

The  objective  reality  of  each  of  our  ideas  requires  a 
cause  in  which  this  same  reality  is  contained,  not  simply 
objectively,  but  formally  or  eminently  (by  Axiom  V.). 


ON  THE  EXISTENCE  OF  GOD 


369 


But  we  have  in  us  the  idea  of  God  (by  Definitions  II. 
and  VIII.),  and  of  this  idea  the  objective  reality  is  not 
contained  in  us,  either  formally  or  eminently  (by  Axiom 
VI.),  nor  can  it  be  contained  in  any  other  except  in  God 
himself  (by  Definition  VIII.). 

Therefore  this  idea  of  God  which  is  in  us  demands 
God  for  its  cause,  and  consequently  God  exists  (by  Ax- 
iom III.). 

Proposition  III. 

The  existence  of  God  is  also  demonstrated  from  this, 
that  we  ourselves,  who  possess  the  idea  of  him,  exist. 

DEMONSTRATION. 

If  I possessed  the  power  of  conserving  myself,  I should 
likewise  have  the  power  of  conferring,  it  fortiori,  on  my- 
self, all  the  perfections  that  are  wanting  to  me  (by  Axioms 
VIII.  and  IX.),  for  these  perfections  are  only  attributes 
of  substance,  whereas  I myself  am  a substance. 

But  I have  not  the  power  of  conferring  myself  on  these 
perfections,  for  otherwise  I should  already  possess  them 
(by  Axiom  VII.). 

Hence,  I have  not  the  power  of  self -conservation. 

Further,  I cannot  exist  without  being  conserved,  so  long 
as  I exist,  either  by  myself,  supposing  I possess  the  power, 
or  by  another  who  has  this  power  (by  Axioms  I.  and  II.). 

But  I exist,  and  yet  I have  not  the  power  of  self-con- 
servation, as  I have  recently  proved.  Hence  I am  con- 
served by  another. 

Further,  that  by  which  I am  conserved  has  in  itself 
formally  or  eminently  all  that  is  in  me  (by  Axiom  IV.). 

But  I have  in  me  the  perception  of  many  perfections 
that  are  wanting  to  me,  and  that  also  of  the  idea  of 
God  (by  Definitions  II.  and  VIII.).  Hence  the  perception 
of  these  same  perfections  is  in  him  by  whom  I am  con- 
served. 

Finally,  that  same  being  by  whom  I am  conserved  can- 
not have  the  perception  of  any  perfections  that  are  want- 
ing to  him,  that  is  to  say,  which  he  has  not  in  himself 
formally  or  eminently  (by  Axiom  VII.) ; for  having  the 
power  of  conserving  me,  as  has  been  recently  said,  he 
should  have,  it  fortiori , the  power  of  conferring  these 
24 


370 


APPENDIX 


perfections  on  himself,  if  they  were  wanting  to  him  (by 
Axioms  VIII.  and  IX.). 

But  he  has  the  perception  of  all  the  perfections  which 
I discover  to  be  wanting  to  me,  and  which  I conceive  can 
be  in  God  alone,  as  I recently  proved : 

Hence  he  has  all  these  in  himself,  formally  or  eminently, 
and  thus  he  is  God. 


Corollary. 

God  has  created  the  sky  and  the  earth  and  all  that  is 
therein  contained;  and  besides  this  he  can  make  all  the 
things  which  we  clearly  conceive  in  the  manner  in  which 
we  conceive  them. 

DEMONSTRATION. 

All  these  things  clearly  follow  from  the  preceding 
proposition.  For  in  it  we  have  proved  the  existence  of 
God,  from  its  being  necessary  that  some  one  should  exist 
in  whom  are  contained  formally  or  eminently  all  the 
perfections  of  which  there  is  in  us  any  idea. 

But  we  have  in  us  the  idea  of  a power  so  great,  that 
by  the  being  alone  in  whom  it  resides,  the  sky  and  the 
earth,  etc.,  must  have  been  created,  and  also  that  by  the 
same  being  all  the  other  things  which  we  conceive  as 
possible  can  be  produced. 

Hence,  in  proving  the  existence  of  God,  we  have  also 
proved  with  it  all  these  things. 

Proposition  IV. 

The  mind  and  body  are  really  distinct. 

demonstration. 

All  that  we  clearly  conceive  can  be  made  by  God  in 
the  manner  in  which  we  conceive  it  (by  foregoing  Corol- 
lary). 

But  we  clearly  conceive  mind,  that  is,  a substance 
which  thinks,  without  body:  that  is  to  say,  without  an 
extended  substance  (by  Postulate  II.);  and,  on  the  other 
hand,  we  as  clearly  conceive  body  without  mind  ( as 
every  one  admits): 


ON  THE  EXISTENCE  OF  GOD 


37* 


Hence,  at  least,  by  the  omnipotence  of  God,  the  mind 
can  exist  without  the  body,  and  the  body  without  the 
mind. 

Now,  substances  which  can  exist  independently  of  each 
other,  are  really  distinct  (by  Definition  X.). 

But  the  mind  and  the  body  are  substances  (by  Defini- 
tions V.,  VI.  and  VII.),  which  can  exist  independently  of 
each  other,  as  I have  recently  proved: 

Hence  the  mind  and  the  body  are  really  distinct. 

And  it  must  be  observed  that  I have  here  made  use  of 
the  omnipotence  of  God  in  order  to  found  my  proof  on  it, 
not  that  there  is  need  of  any  extraordinary  power  in 
order  to  separate  the  mind  from  the  body,  but  for  this 
reason,  that,  as  I have  treated  of  God  only  in  the  fore- 
going propositions,  I could  not  draw  my  proof  from  any 
other  source  than  from  him:  and  it  matters  very  little 
by  what  power  two  things  are  separated  in  order  to  dis- 
cover that  they  are  really  distinct. 


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